Miscellaneous
by TheLookingGlass-7
Summary: Random One shots, ficlets and mini stories.
1. Better Than DJ

_**Hey! I'm uploading One shots and ficlets I posted on Tumblr..hope you like them:)**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing**_

* * *

"You didn't win you cheated." Sam was pouting. How could this girl who was having trouble carrying her equipment best him at paintball assassin? He knew how—she used those big doe eyes and he was putty in her hands.

"Nobody likes a sore loser Sam." Mercedes rolled her eyes and playfully tapped Sam on his shoulder as they stood on his porch.

"Shut up Cede. I didn't lose."

Mercedes snorted at her friend. "Right. I call running away while you're being shot at winning."

He stopped walking and she ran into his chest. She looked up at him and became alarmed by the mischievous glint in his eye. "Saammmm?"

She knew what he was about to do and she slowly backed away to avoid it. "Don't you dare tickle me." Before she could run he pulled her close and his dexterous fingers descended on her ribs bringing about a giggling fit. Pretty soon she was wriggling underneath him admitting defeat. "Say it."

Finally catching her breath she smiled up at him as he straddled her, unaware of their closeness or the intimate way he pinned her wrists. "Okay, Okay. You won. Happy now?"

As if he had perfect timing, Dwight Evans Jr., or D.J., opened the front door to stare at the pair. Amused he took in their compromising position. "Hey Sam. Nugget. What are you guys doing?" He crossed his arms and watched Sam and Mercedes sputter. Moving off his friend Sam offered a hand to help her up and she pulled away from him completely. He was a little shocked at the way her demeanor changed. D.J. was smiling at the two as they jumped up and out of each other's reach.

She stood awkwardly as Sam and his older brother talked. She inwardly chastised herself for looking like a mess. Her paint covered overalls and dirty chucks didn't scream fashionable, and she always seemed to look her worse when D.J. was around.

She tried to discreetly run a hand through her hair, groaning internally at the paint splotches she felt.

She hated that she gave the unsuspecting boy power over her but she couldn't help it—he was everything she wanted. She never thought he would be interested in her but their make out session during his going away party last year disproved her theory. The smart, sensitive, strong and caring boy always made her stomach flutter and for some reason him being in college made him sexier. She sucked her lips in contemplatively, hoping she wasn't drooling. She felt like she was drooling.

Mercedes was wondering if his mocha colored hair was as soft as it looked, when her friend nudged her side bringing her back to reality.

"Cede did you hear?"

"Huh?"

D.J. walked up to her and looked her in the face. She felt lightheaded just looking into his deep cerulean eyes. "I'm having a party. You coming, Nugget?"

Mercedes was afraid of her voice so she just nodded slowly, feigning ambivalence. She didn't want to seem like a complete groupie. After a few seconds she found her confidence again. "Sure. That sounds like fun."

Sam rolled his eyes. He saw that look many of times from many girls. Everyone loved D.J. _Everyone_. He hated being known as D.J.'s little brother because he couldn't measure up. D.J. was always smarter, funnier, taller and more athletic. He bit back as scoff as he watched Mercedes giggle while D.J. fixed the strap on her overalls. Never in a million years did he think Mercedes would succumb to his brother's charms. He'd like to think Mercedes was immune to them and was better than all those girls who acted a fool around his big brother, shamelessly flirting and batting their eyes but he was mistaken.

Before she said anything stupid she decided to retreat. Touching his arm she said her goodbye. "I'll see you Friday D.J." She then turned to her friend and gave him a hug, purposely smearing her face on the one clean spot on his shirt. "See you tomorrow. Sam." She giggled as his face scrunched up in disgust. "Thanks Cede."

As soon as Mercedes walked away D.J. turned to his little brother. "So you and nugget looked really cozy."

He quickly squashed his brother's suspicions. "It's not like that. We're just friends."

To be sure D.J. decided to test his brother. "You sure? Cause little nugget's looking good."

"Ew. That's weird. I guess I never looked at her that way."

D.J. eyed his brother suspiciously. "You have eyes?"

"I mean she's more like a sister to me." Sam had to change the subject quickly before that little voice which was calling him a liar got louder.

Mercedes got home and squealed in her pillow after her hour-long shower. She hadn't seen D.J. since he left and he sure looked fine. Did he go to the gym everyday cause he came back looking cut, his shirt barely containing his muscles. Who told him to walk around in black v-necks anyway? Damn D.J. and his rude ass.

She wondered if he ever thought of that kiss they shared. Probably not. He probably saw her as a kid. Even though they were less than two years apart he seemed to go out of his way to remind her of their age difference. She wanted him to see how mature she was. She was going to be an adult in a few months anyway. Mercedes ran over to her closet and went through her clothes, trying to find something for the party. She was determined to find an outfit that would make him stop calling her nugget and start calling her Mercedes.

* * *

The next day at school everyone was talking about the Evans bash. All the girls were talking about being inside D.J. Evans house and she rolled her eyes. She hoped she didn't act like that around him. Leaning next to Sam's locker she rolled her eyes at all the gossip surrounding the party. "I can't wait to go to college and get away from this town."

"You're lucky," Sam said as he closed his locker. "At least you can get away from people swooning over my brother."

Mercedes reached up and pinched her friend's cheeks. "Aww Sam you know you're my favorite Evans brother."

"Really?"

"Nope, Stevie is. But you're a close second."

She laughed at the put out expression on his face before grabbing his hand. Speaking softly she added, "Hey. You're amazing you know that?"

Mercedes always knew how to disarm him. She always knew how he was feeling without asking. She knew how insecure he was about being the brother of D.J., the golden child, and tried to comfort him. She was pretty amazing like that. He could feel his cheeks warming and the feeling was honestly unsettling. He glanced over at Tina, secretly wondering if he could get the girl to spill how Mercedes really felt about him.

She turned to grab her books never noticing the blush that set on his cheeks. Standing she realized Sam had a faraway look in his eyes. She followed his vision to see Tina laughing with Arty by her locker. For some reason the thought of Sam liking Tina made a weird feeling bubble up inside her, but she ignored it and tried to help her friend out. "You like her."

Sam turned around and rolled his eyes at his misguided friend, wondering why her touch caused a physical reaction. "No I don't."

"Yeah you do. You're blushing."

_Because of you. _He sighed. Sam would rather let her believe he liked Tina than to tell her the truth and face her rejection. He knew if given the chance she would choose D.J. over him in a heartbeat. "It's not what you think. Do me a favor, Cede? Don't meddle."

She looked up at him innocently. "Me? I don't meddle."

Hearing the warning bell ring he walked backwards down the hallway still looking at her. "I'm serious."

She saluted him and spun on her heels rushing to get to her Economics class.

Mercedes and Sam were supposed to meet up after his football practice to review Sam's admission essays. He'd worked hard and maintained a 3.4 GPA. A gifted quarterback, Sam had his pick of athletic scholarships from local and ivy-league schools alike. He wanted college to be about more than sports however. It's why he enlisted Mercedes' help for his admission essay. He wanted schools to see him as a student, not some nameless, faceless jock who was only good at playing football.

Parking her car in their driveway she was looking at herself in the mirror when she saw him. D.J. was playing basketball without his shirt on, his muscles glistening and the wind blowing in the crisp autumn breeze. Did he always look like a model?

She was staring at him for a while before she heard the tap on her window. Startled she jumped a little seeing Sam looking at her with furrowed eyebrows. Opening her door she greeted her friend. "Sam, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"What were you doing out here staring at my brother?"

"You got it all wrong." Mercedes didn't want Sam to think she was like all those other girls when it came to D.J. She decided to push all thoughts of D.J. out of her mind, especially around Sam.

"Whatever you say," he held her door and led her inside.

After a few hours of perfecting his essay Mercedes was spent. She was sprawled out on his bed while he lounged in his desk chair. "Hey Cede."

"Yeah?" She sat up on her elbows to look him in the eyes.

"You really think we'll get into the same school?"

"Definitely. This time next year it's going to be you and me raising hell and getting out of Lima!"

He smiled. Strangely, he didn't want to think about not having her by his side next year.

The conversation was getting heavy. Before she got into why it mattered so much to be with him next year she went to a new topic.

"I spoke to Tina today."

Sam groaned and threw a pencil at his tenacious friend. "Cede I thought you weren't going to meddle."

She squealed as she ducked and watched the pencil fall behind his bed. "I didn't meddle. I nudged. Anyway, she said she wouldn't be opposed to being your date for the party on Friday."

He crossed his arms. He wished she wasn't so stubborn. She really didn't want to see it and he was so afraid of rejection he didn't want to show her. "Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Thanks Cede."

She could tell he was upset and she wanted to let him know she was just looking out for him. "Sam, I—"

"Look I got to meet some people in a few so I'll see you later."

She left, not even sparing a glance at D.J. who unbeknownst to her was trying to get her attention.

* * *

Friday came quickly and before she knew it she was knocking on the Evans' door slightly nervous.

She wanted to look different and she did. Her outfit skirted between sweet and sexy—D.J. was definitely going to take notice. She was wearing a pair of black skinny leg jeans and a sparkly red sleeveless blouse with her favorite black patent leather peep toe pumps. It was cold so she wore her ¾ sleeve leather jacket. Deciding to forgo heavy makeup she barely wore any, focusing on a gray smoky eye and a deep rouge lipstick instead. Her hair was in soft waves parted asymmetrically and swept to her left side. She looked down and smirked in approval.

D.J. opened the door and pulled her in. "Well, well, well. You sure clean up good Nugget," he said as he shamelessly raked his eyes over her figure. Mercedes flushed under his gaze.

She smiled. "Thanks. You look nice." But then again he always looked nice. Shifting a little she added, "Do you know where Sam is?" D.J. nodded and pointed her in the direction of Sam and Tina awkwardly dancing and laughing at themselves in the living room. For some reason Mercedes was angry, No, not angry. Jealous. She sighed and walked to the kitchen to grab a beer.

Sam saw her and as soon as she walked in all the air was sucked out the room. She looked gorgeous. No, not gorgeous. Breathtaking. He was just about to excuse himself when he saw who she was talking to-D.J. From the looks of things both looked like they didn't want to be interrupted. He turned his attention back to his date and had to admit, he was actually having a good time.

Four Jell-O shots and three beers later and Mercedes was fanning herself and moving away from the middle of a dance circle. Jumping on the kitchen counter she took a bottle of water and swayed to the music. She opened her eyes to find D.J. smirking at her. He pulled her by her belt loops and whispered in her ear "you look beautiful Mercedes." Her pulse raced as she felt his muscles through her thin blouse. "Thanks." She looked down shyly. "You know that's the first time you've called me Mercedes."

"I can't keep calling you what I called you when we were kids now can I?"

She shook her head. "We're _definitely_ not kids anymore." She bit her lip and smiled seductively.

"Maybe we should catch up. Dinner? Tomorrow?" His warm breath on her neck was making her shiver. Needing to get closer she boldly wrapped her hands around his biceps. But her more urgent need was to find a bathroom. "Sure. Tomorrow sounds good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." He helped her down, holding her longer than necessary before kissing her cheek. "Pick you up at 7 Mercedes."

Sam was about to take Tina home when he saw it—Mercedes and D.J. in the kitchen. Why was she giggling? Why were they so close? That's it. He lost before he ever got the chance to compete. Sam excused himself and headed for his room. Right now the noises were too loud and his head was killing him. He never drank as much as he did tonight and he promised he never would again. Plopping down on his bed he closed his eyes hating that he could only smell Mercedes. Her scent was everywhere—in his sheets, blankets and pillows. Groaning he put his forearm over his eyes wondering when his life became a mess. He didn't even acknowledge the knock on his door. Tina walked in and sat next to him in the dark. She didn't try to talk to him, just handed him a water bottle. "I'm sorry I ruined your night. This is probably the worst date ever."

Tina laughed. Then winced in empathy when she saw Sam grab his head. "It actually wasn't that bad."

Sam closed his eyes. She was right. It wasn't bad at all. "Can I have a re-do tomorrow night?"

"Sure Sam. Hopefully you'll be sober by then." Hearing her phone buzz she stood. "That's my ride. Thanks for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow." She kissed his cheek, not realizing her lipstick smeared.

Sam smiled as he watched her walked away. He then lay back down and put a pillow over his head. When he saw his door swing open he just assumed Tina left something. "Tina you didn't have to leave something behind to spend more time with me."

"It's not Tina."

Mercedes was coming out of the bathroom when she saw Tina tiptoeing out of Sam's room and gently shutting the door. She knew it wasn't her place and she shouldn't care but she did. That pang of jealously grew deeper as she saw Tina's smeared lipstick. It only got worse when he mistakenly called her Tina. Sam shot up when he heard Mercedes' voice.

"So I take it you had good time with Tina," she asked stepping closer to him. Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah I did. In fact we're going on another date tomorrow night. So thanks for not minding your business."

"What a coincidence because me and D.J. are going out tomorrow too," she shot back.

"Cede open your eyes. D.J. doesn't want you." He instantly regretted the words as soon as they left his lips.

She pushed away from him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"'I'm sorry Cede. I just know my brother and I don't want you to get hurt or move faster than you're ready to."

"I have a father. His name is Elijah Jones and I don't need another! You're one to talk about someone moving too fast. Who knows what I just missed."

"You really think I would do that? Who do you think I am?"

"I'm beginning to think I don't know you at all."

He scoffed. "You're acting so dumb right now."

"And you're acting like a jackass." She stood up and slammed the door behind her. Sam went in search for her, but couldn't find her anywhere. They never fought like that. In fact, they never fought at all. He could deal with her not being interested in him but couldn't deal with losing his friend altogether.

* * *

Saturday night came and Mercedes was too embarrassed to return Sam's calls. She had never been so angry with him before. She knew he was just looking out for her but a piece of her wanted to know if Sam thought she wasn't good enough for his brother. Tamping down feelings of inferiority, Mercedes smoothed her dress down and waited for Sam's brother to pick her up.

Everything about D.J was perfect—too perfect. He did and said all the right things, but Mercedes couldn't help but think the whole thing felt impersonal. As he prattled on about topics she could care less about she realized she was harboring feelings for someone who could care less about her. Interrupting his speech about why Americans need to be more invested in soccer she blurted out, "You don't remember do you?"

"Remember what?

"The kiss? At your goodbye party?"

He was scrambling and before he said anything Mercedes knew he didn't. "Yeah I remember it was nice."

She smiled. She didn't matter to him. Anyone could have taken her place. She only mattered to one Evans boy and it sure as hell wasn't D.J. "It was never about me. I wasn't special."

"What are you talking about? Of course you're special, Nugget."

"Mercedes."

"Excuse me?" He arched a quizzical brow.

"My. Name. Is. Mercedes. " She took the napkin off her lap and folded it. Standing up she pulled out her chair and said, "Thanks for tonight D.J. I had a good time, but I'm not feeling well. Could you take me home?"

D.J. was shocked. He'd never been rejected before. Standing up he asked, "Are you sure?" He flashed his panty-melting smile showcasing his dimples.

She closed her eyes before she could roll them. "I couldn't be more sure."

Across town, Sam's date wasn't faring any better. After watching Sam wander off in thought for the third time Tina decided to address the sparkly purple animal print elephant in the room. "You like her."

Sam's ears perked up. "Who?"

"Mercedes, you know your _friend_."

"Mercedes likes my brother." He took a drink of water before the bile rose in this throat at his admission.

Tina shook her head as is she was talking to a misguided child. "No she doesn't. She's just fighting her feelings. Trust me."

"I really think you're wrong. You didn't see they way she looked at him."

"But I saw the way she looks at you. She looked like she wanted to maul me when she saw me coming out of your room."

Anxious Sam carded a hand through his dirty blond hair. He felt bad he even asked Tina on a date knowing he had feelings for Mercedes. Finding out Tina knew about them only made him feel worse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lead you on."

She waved his apology away. "Don't be. I had my own reasons for saying yes." She nodded into the direction of a forlorn looking Arty biting a breadstick and looking in their direction.

He smiled. "You should go to him."

She stood and gave him a hug. "And you should go talk to her."

* * *

Mercedes couldn't sleep. She had everything weighing heavy on her and if she didn't sort her shit out, things would only get worse. Instinctively she walked to her favorite thinking place—Robb Park. Five minutes later she was sitting on the swings as she watched fallen leaves tumble on the dewy grass. Lost in her own world, she grinned when she heard the chains on the swing next to hers rattle. Without looking over she knew who it was. When she finally looked up, her smile only brightened. "Hey."

"Hey," Sam responded. He wore a hoodie and sweats and still managed to look handsome.

She sat on the swing twisting the chains together until she couldn't anymore. He watched as she spun around with her eyes closed. When she stopped, he was kneeling beside her looking at her intently. She sighed and used her thumb to caress his cheek. "I'm sorry."

He placed his hands on her thighs for leverage and the feeling had her heart racing. "Me too."

"I didn't mean to call you a jackass. I was just mad and maybe a little jealous."

He smirked. "You were jealous?"

"Of Tina." She put her head down. "I wish it were me you were laughing and dancing with. But I want you to know I won't interfere in your relationship."

"Tina and I don't have a relationship. We decided we're better off as friends. Besides, she likes someone else. What about you and D.J?"

"You were right. He never cared about me. I was making a fool of myself."

"I said what I said because I was jealous too," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Because…He's D.J. and there's nothing better than that. Why would you want me when you could have him?"

She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "You're not your brother. You're you and that makes you better."

Sam stood up and started walking away. She followed and stood in front of him. He asked in a confused voice, "are you saying I'm better than D.J?" No one had ever told him that. Being one of the middle children meant he was constantly being compared to his siblings, and he never measured up to D.J.

She looked into his eyes and smiled warmly, placing her hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "I'm saying your better than _everyone_."

Sam closed their distance in one step and pressed his lips to hers. Standing on her toes she grabbed his neck to bring him closer. He deepened the kiss and groaned grabbing her waist. Every part of her felt like it was on fire. Her toes were tingling and her heart was racing. When they pulled away she was sure the same goofy grin that was on her boyfriend's face was on her own.


	2. Dance Lessons parts 1-8

Here's a Mikecedes mini-story...

**Part I**

I sat in my car looking at the door to the community center debating whether I should go in. Looking around I lowered the lid on my baseball cap and leaned back in my seat. This was so embarrassing. My mom signed me up for dance classes, which would have been great if they weren't at the community center. The only people that did anything at the community center were older or forced. I could've said no but moms are notoriously good guilt trippers and mine was no exception. When I still wouldn't budge she appealed to logic, which she knew I couldn't argue with. Trying to ignore my mom's rationalizations of 'just because you have rhythm doesn't mean you can dance' and 'if you want to be an entertainer you need to do more than just sing' failed and here I was jumping out of the car to attend my first of 15 lessons.

I opened the door and went into the room the class was being held. Surprise surprise, the group was full of older couples and me—the odd one out. I didn't think I could handle the humiliation so I went to leave when the instructor came in. You know those big life-changing moments in movies where there's music in the background and all the planets and stars align and you know everything has been building to this moment? Okay, so it wasn't like that, but seeing Mike for the first time definitely _felt_ like that. He was tall, taller than 6 feet, which meant I had to crane my neck to look him in the eye. Speaking of, they were the kindest brown eyes I had ever seen. The kind you could get lost in. The kind that made me want to turn around, sit my goofy ass down and enjoy the lesson sans complaint. That black tank top was doing nothing to erase the dirty thoughts in my mind and the way his muscles involuntarily flexed with the slightest movement was just unfair. I knew if I looked lower than his chest, I would be openly leering so I tried to focus on a spot on the bulletin board behind him. I didn't realize he was speaking to me until he cleared his throat as I stood still as a statue in front of him.

"Huh," I managed to eke out.

He smiled, and it made me want to smile too.

"I said I hope you're staying for the lesson."

Even his voice was sexy. I was in trouble. I tried to avoid making a bigger fool of myself by nodding and standing with the rest of the class.

"Hey everyone. My name is Mike Chang and I'm going to be your instructor for the next 15 weeks. This is our beginners dance class and we'll be learning the fundamentals of different styles. But most importantly we're going to be safe and have fun." He clapped his hands together excitedly. "Let's get started"

Despite being in a classroom full of baby boomers, I had fun. We went over the basics of a Viennese waltz and since I was the only one there without a partner (thanks a lot Tina) I was always used to demonstrate the moves. It was fun dancing with him and exploring different styles. I was actually excited about next class' promise of the cha-cha. I would have to go home and admit to my mom that she was right. Did I mention Mr. and Mrs. Evans are taking the class? Yeah Mr. Popularity's parents are in my class and they're actually pretty cool. Mr. Evans has no rhythm and a few times I saw Mrs. Evans scowling when her husband stepped on her foot. I abandoned that crush a little while ago realizing in just a few months I was off to college and he was too shallow to ever look my way.

I was looking at the bulletin board, shocked at all the classes they offered. If more people knew about it, I'm sure this place would be as empty as it was. I was thumbing over the pastry class info sheet, debating if I should take down the number when Mike stood beside me and nudged my shoulder.

He had a towel around his neck and damn it if his glistening face didn't make him sexier.

"So what did you think of class?"

I had to maintain some semblance of maturity so I noncommittally shrugged my shoulders. "It was fun."

"Fun," he repeated. "Not the torture you were expecting?"

Could he read my thoughts? He probably could see the expression on my face when I was about to leave. I've got to work on that. Mike leaned in closer and winked before walking away.

I smiled at him and caught a giggle before it escaped my mouth. I was not going to act like this about my instructor. I didn't want him to think I was some little girl with a crush even though, let's face it, that's exactly what I was. I could do this. I could focus strictly on dancing. Besides it was 15 weeks out of my life and I doubt we'd ever see each other after this class anyway.

* * *

The next day I was at my locker telling Tina about the class, especially Mike. We were giggling when Tina pulled on my sleeve and stopped laughing. "What, T?"

She pointed behind me and I turned around to see who was there. Sam Evans was standing in front of me Rocking on his heels with an amused expression on his face. I was wondering what he wanted and I was sure it showed on my face. I _really_ have to work on that.

"What's up Sam?" I hoped the annoyance I felt didn't show.

He continued grinning like a fool for a few seconds before he said, "so…what's this I hear about you dancing at the Community center?"

**Part II**

I rolled my eyes and kept walking, wondering why I ever liked him in the first place.I was even more annoyed when he began walking in step with me. "So?"

"Aren't you embarrassed?"

He sounded so shallow and stupid, then it hit me. I was just as shallow and stupid before my first class. "Not anymore." I fanned my arms around to emphasize my point. "All of this, the people that we are in here, isn't going to matter in a few months. I'm doing something that will help me be what I always wanted to be so no, I'm not embarrassed to be taking dance lessons at the community center or anywhere else." I didn't know where all this bravado was coming from but I decided to go with it. "By the way, I've seen you dance before. You could stand to take a few classes yourself."

Tina stood next to me with her mouth wide open. I pulled her next to me so we could continue walking. "I can't believe you just talked to Sam Evans like that!"

I looked at my friend wondering why she was acting like he was some kind of celebrity. I just kept on walking, glancing back slightly at his shocked expression. "Had to be said."

* * *

Saturday afternoon came quicker than I thought and I was in the mirror deciding how I would look. After what felt like thousands of hair variations I slung my hair over my shoulder. I decided to go for a completely glam look with heavy makeup. As I stared in the mirror putting on my fake eyelashes I realized how ridiculous I looked. I was going to a dance class and was wearing yoga capris and a off the shoulder top. What the hell was I doing putting on a mask? Running to the bathroom I peeled off the lashes and washed my face. Frustrated by my stupidity I pulled my hair up in a sloppy bun and made my way to class.

There was no hesitation or self-conscious wait, I just pulled into the lot and stepped out the car with my head held high. Since I was early, I had time to talk with some of my classmates. A lot of their topics went over my head (who is Bobby Darin? What was the funky penguin?) but I suddenly frowned when they told me there were plans to shut down the center. I just found out how great this place was and now they're going to close it? "Why?"

Mrs. Johnson patted me on the shoulder. "Greed baby, why else? They want to open another parking garage for the mall."

"We can't let that happen. We have to do something."

Before I could formulate a plan Mike came in looking like sin. Did he plan on killing me?

He began his lesson on the cha-cha and guided me to the front to be his partner. I didn't want to read more into it but I've seen plenty of cha-chas and nobody was ever as close as we were. Being that close to him terrified and excited me. We were so close I could smell his aftershave and I sent a silent prayer he couldn't smell me. With all the sweating I was doing, I was sure I smelled like a locker room.

After every class we had 10 minutes where we would freestyle. It was hilarious watching everyone do whatever. I looked up from doing 'the sprinkler' with Mr. Evans and saw Mike staring at me. It was only a moment but it felt like our gazes locked for hours. I couldn't stop staring at him and he made no moves to stop staring at me. I finally looked away when I realized he was probably just silently judging how stupid I looked.

As was tradition we all did breathing exercises to close and he promised we would continue Latin dance styles next week.

I was saying goodbye to everyone when I felt someone tap my shoulder. Mike asked to talk to me privately and I wasn't saying no to that.

We walked over to the middle of the room and he asked, "Are you a ringer?"

"What?" I must not have heard him.

"You're an amazing dancer Mercedes. You're a natural. Honestly, you don't need to be in this class. "

I could say my face was flushed because of dancing and not his observation but being this close to him made me nervous. Where did all that bravado from earlier in the week go? "Thanks."

"I can tell you're an artist. So what's your instrument?"

I had no idea what he meant and I'm sure it showed on my face.

He shook his head and chuckled. "I mean how do you tell your story? I tell mine through dancing. Some people tell theirs by writing, or designing or playing guitar. Wait, let me guess…"

I stood in front of him awkwardly as he stared at my face intently. I felt like I was under a microscope and he could see everything that was wrong with me.

He smiled triumphantly and said. "You're a singer."

I asked him how he knew and he said "Your voice. You have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. Even when you talk it sounds like you're singing."

Yup he was tying to kill me. The timbre of his voice and my legs felling like putty proved it. "I don't know about that." I said, trying to brush off his compliment. "You've never heard me actually sing."

"Can I?" He asked adorably and I smiled at his pout.

I nodded and just sang from my heart:

_Right now I feel like a bird  
caged without a key.  
Everyone comes to stare at me  
with so much joy and reverie.  
They don't know how I feel inside.  
Through my smile I cry._

They don't know what they're doing to me,  
keeping me from flying.  
That's why I say that I know why  
the caged bird sings.  
Only joy comes from song.

_She's so rare and beautiful to others*…_

I trailed off and quieted my voice, embarrassed that lost myself in the song. "Yeah" I put my head down, too shy to look at him after I exposed myself like that. He took my head in his hands and lifted it. "That was beautiful Mercedes." He kept looking in my eyes so I knew he was being sincere. "I think I have chills. You are truly gifted."

I knew I had a good voice but his words unnerved me a little, so I did what I do best: I deflected.

"What about you?"

"I can't sing to save my life."

I chuckled before I could stop myself. "No, I meant dancing. You're pretty gifted."

He smiled. "Thanks. That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. There's this fundraiser to save the center in a few weeks. I'm dancing and I sort of need a partner. Would you dance with me?"

I was shocked. I could hold my own but I couldn't come close to Mike. "I don't know. Can I think about it and get back to you?"

I looked up at him and was shocked at how disappointed he seemed. "Sure. I just want you to know I really enjoy dancing with you."

I thought it over and gave him my answer the next class. We started spending time together after the classes to rehearse. I learned so much about him. The more I found out about him, the harder it was to hide my feelings. Mike was dutiful. He was a junior, pre-med, at Ohio State who took a semester off to take care of his sick father. He was passionate. Mike told me he had been secretly dancing since he was a kid and only started teaching a year ago when he couldn't deny how happy dancing made him. He's now mulling over going back and staying pre med like his family wants or following his own path. He was so vulnerable and strong at the same time. He is so driven, but easy-going and friendly. I found it hard not to open up to him. I told him all about my dreams of being a grammy-award winning artist; of playing in sold-out arenas worldwide and singing songs that inspired people. I even told him things I never told anyone else, like my secret love of heavy metal and even more secret hatred of the Bengals.

The closer we got during rehearsals the more intimate our movements became in class. I found that out during our tango lesson. I felt sultry, powerful, beautiful in his arms. The intense push/pull between Mike and me was making my mind race. I could feel the planes of his torso against my chest and right before I could hyperventilate his touch was gone. The way he held me closer, as if my body could melt into his and then pushed me away as if I were his weakness was making my breathing shallow more than the dance ever could. I tried to remember this was how the dance was supposed to go. That this is what we rehearsed and no extra swivel of my hips was going to make him see me as anything other than his partner. I tried to keep our relationship strictly professional, and I was failing.

I was in trouble because the more time we spent together, the more I wanted to see him outside of class.

_* Alicia Keys-I Know why the Caged Bird Sings_

** Part III**

Rehearsals were going great and I was enjoying spending time with Mike. Some would say I was enjoying it a little too much. So I forgot about my big English essay on _Anna Karenina_, at least I read the book right? Wrong. Now I had to sit in the Lima Bean after church trying to fill 10 pages with my thoughts. My mind felt like it was melting after page 6. I looked down on the paper and it looked like gibberish. No it was gibberish. Sighing I stood to get another coffee, knowing I had to power through if I was going to turn this paper in on time. I put my head down and groaned in frustration. I had two more pages to write and it wasn't happening. I looked up when I heard something sliding across the table.

"You looked like you could use a break." Mike smiled and sat down next to me.

I looked at the banana chocolate chip muffin and smiled at him. He was already making my horrible day better. "Thanks."

"What are you up to?" He asked, looking at my stacks of highlighted papers and my coffee-stained book.

I held it up so he could get a better look.

"Ah, _Anna Karenina. _How many pages do you have to write?"

I rubbed my forehead trying to stave off a tension headache. "Ten. I have eight now."

He slung an arm around my shoulder. I'm sure I would have squealed if I wasn't so tired. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret. If you highlight all the punctuation marks and increase their size by two, your teacher won't know the difference and your guaranteed to have two more pages."

I looked at him skeptically. That sounded too easy, that wouldn't work. As if he could read my mind he added, "trust me. It works every time."

So I did. And it worked. He saved my night. I was so excited my filter flew away. I hugged him so fiercely I practically mauled him. "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.

He laughed and hugged me back. I smiled at how his voice rumbled against his chest where my cheek rested.

Then I did the unthinkable (literally I wasn't thinking) and kissed him. It was a quick pack, barely lasting a few seconds, but it was long enough for me to want to feel his lips against mine again and again. Well that was the metaphorical ice water that doused me out of my drunken revelries.

I couldn't bare to look at him, to see the flattered look on his face while he let the little girl down easy. Before he said I word I blurted out,

"Oh my God Mike I am so sorry. I can't believe I did that. I hope I didn't make things awkward." I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

He shook his head and tucked a piece of hair that had fallen during my rant behind my ear. "Don't apologize. In fact," he paused and licked his lips, "I hope you get carried away more often." I gulped at his response. This boy was trying to kill me. He inched torturously closer and I could feel his warm breath on my lips. A few more millimeters and I would be able to taste the vanilla spice latte he just drank on his tongue. I closed my eyes for a brief second, anticipating the kiss but he jumped when the shrill ringing of his phone jolted us out of our moment. Figures. He's so considerate. Mike apologized for answering the phone, afraid he would miss a call from his family about his father's condition.

He walked away from me towards the back of the store and began speaking in a soft low tone. His whole demeanor changed and I wondered why. Then I heard it. He must have been really close with whoever was on the phone because he kept calling them 'babe'. I felt so stupid. Of course he would have a girlfriend, what was I thinking? He was still laughing and talking on the phone and in that moment I made a choice. I wasn't going to be made a fool of, I was packing up and leaving with what little dignity I had left intact.

He closed the phone just when I was about to stand up. "Hey," He actually looked disappointed that I was leaving. "Sorry about that."

I smiled at him, mustering up the fakest smile I could manage at the time. It probably looked more like a grimace. "Don't worry about it. I didn't realize how late it was. I _really_ have to go."

He just looked at me with those puppy dog eyes that were losing their affect on me. "I was hoping we could hang out."

Was he trying to twist the knife? I was tired of looking at him without hating myself for being the stupidest girl in the world, again. I just kept walking, calling out from behind as I reached the door, "Can't. Sorry. See you in class."

I went home that night and spent a few hours erasing Mike's suggestion and adding to my paper honestly.

For the first time since I started I was actually dreading dance class. I didn't know how to act around Mike. Last week I felt completely embarrassed but now I was just angry. He led me on. We spent hours talking about anything and everything and he never mentioned having a girlfriend. But I was going to ignore it, ignore him. We were at the halfway mark and before I knew it classes would be over and I could _finally_ be out on my own.

I brushed right past Mike on my way in. He looked hurt but I didn't care. I needed to myself distance from him. He walked up to me and I continued stretching, like I didn't see him standing there. He tried to get closer to me so we could have a private conversation. He asked if we could talk after class. "Sure."

We stood to begin and someone came barging into class nearly tripping over himself in the process.

"Sorry. I'm sorry I'm late. It'll never happen again."

Sam walked right up to me with a pervy smile on his face. "Hey Mercedes," he whispered.

"What the hell are you doing here Sam? We're halfway through the classes." I didn't want to deal with any more assholes today.

He stepped closer and explained. "I was able to get a discount by registering late. Besides, I thought you'd be happy I followed your advice."

**Part IV**

Mike walked over to Sam and I saw his jaw clench. He looked between the two of us and asked, "You two know each other?" Sam said yes before I could say no. Then the boy slung his arm around my shoulder. "We're good friends. In fact, Mercedes was the one who suggested that I join the class."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, hoping the action will make the doofus slide his arm off my shoulder. "You ready, partner," Sam asked as he smiled his tantalizing sexy smile. A few months ago it would have made me melt, now it just irritated me. I looked over to Mike silently asking for a reprieve. When I saw that I wasn't getting one or any response from my teacher at all I sighed and took the hand Sam offered. I grumbled. I always hated admitting defeat. "Fine. But this is just a one time thing."

Sam smirked and pulled me closer to him. I looked over at Mike again to help but he was already walking away. His fists were clenched and at this rate I didn't want to be his partner let alone in his class.

Sam was bad. No, bad is an understatement; he was awful. Whatever rhythm he was following was different than the actual rhythm being played. Glancing over at the Evans' made me realize the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I looked over at Mrs. Evans and she nodded in silent commiseration over how uncoordinated her men were.

After the fifth time he stepped on my right foot I had enough. Wincing in pain I hobbled over to the corner in the back of the room. I could tell Sam felt bad, he just kept whispering his apologies contritely. Mike kept the class going and I was a little upset that he didn't even check on me. If there was any part of me that wanted to hope he cared, it was washed away as soon as I looked over to him. At first his eyes softened in concern and he looked like he was making his way over. Then he stopped midway and rolled his eyes. What was going on with him? He seemed tense, jealous even. Why would he be jealous? I was so confused. Sam's actions added to my confusion. He guided me to the floor sat beside me taking my shoe off to examine my foot for himself. After seeing how red and warm it was he apologized again and began to massage it. I was shocked to say the least and I looked up and saw his worried expression.

It was weird. I felt the need to comfort him for stepping on _my_ foot. I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Sam, it's no big deal. I'll just wear steel-toed boots or something." He smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "You'd still want to be my partner?"

"Someone's got to help you!"

Maybe Mike was paying more attention than I thought because was right next to me after he asked the class to practice their turns. He knelt beside me and checked on my foot himself. Slightly pushing Sam out the way, he looked between my foot and face asking "are you okay?"

His voice was so soft and kind I almost forgot I didn't want to have anything to do with him. I stood up on my own, ignoring the hand he offered. "I'm fine Mike. It's no big deal." I looked over to Sam and smiled, hoping he felt better. I wiggled my hand in front of him and he chuckled as he took it. "Come on partner." The whole lesson was awkward. I could feel Mike's eyes on me but every time I looked up he was helping someone or moving around the room, always managing to skip over me. In fact, he never even came over to assist Sam and I.

When class was finished I wanted to bolt. I didn't know how to gauge Mike but I knew his actions were confusing as hell. I really didn't want to spend hours alone rehearsing for the fundraiser but it was almost here and I wouldn't miss a chance to help out the Community Center. Maybe I could get out of today's rehearsal? My foot was fine but maybe I could milk the injury a little. After Sam and I hugged our goodbyes, I walked over to Mike. "Hey, last rehearsal before the big day, huh?" I was trying to make conversation and it was sad how awkward it was. Days ago I was so comfortable with him and we were telling each other our deepest, darkest secrets. Now I didn't want to be in the same room as him. "Yup," he answered tersely not even acknowledging my presence. I had enough of that. "Whatever," I muttered rolling my eyes and walking away.

"Is Sam your boyfriend?"

I turned around. I didn't think I heard him right. "What?"

He walked over to me and asked again.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he responded.

"Of course not. I've just known him for forever and we go to the same school. We barely speak to each other."

"I didn't look like that to me."

"What are you talking about? Wait, were…are you jealous?"

He closed the distance and before I could register what happened his lips were on mine. It was passionate, possessive and I matched his movements by sucking on his bottom lip. He groaned and deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth with his tongue. When we pulled away I was dizzy. I wasn't sure if it was from lack of oxygen or his touch. He was still holding my cheek with one hand while the other was rubbing circles on my lower back. I looked up at him and he was smiling, his short black hair mussed from my hands running through it during our kiss. He leaned down and we connected foreheads as we tried to catch our breath. "I hope that answers your question."

I was about to kiss him again when I felt him jerk forward slightly, which caused me to step back. I didn't know what to think, but reality set in once I opened my eyes and saw him propping up a little blond who was on his back, swinging her arms delightedly in the air with her head on his shoulders.

* * *

**Part V**

Mike saw the look on my face (I really, really have to work on that) and abruptly put the girl down. They separated but she still locked her arms with his. I looked at him silently asking for an explanation and Mike decided to look everywhere but by eyes.

Ignoring the tension she introduced herself and held out a hand for me to shake. "Hey, I'm Quinn."

She seemed really nice and I kind of hated her for it, but she did nothing wrong and it wasn't her fault I had a decidedly one-sided crush on my dance instructor. I smiled at her warmly and shook the hand she offered. "Mercedes."

Her green eyes widened in acknowledgment and she beamed. Then she playfully used her hip to bump Mike's. "So you're Mercedes." What was that supposed to mean? Did Mike tell her all about me and did they laugh at my expense? I looked between Quinn and Mike. They seemed to be having a private conversation I wasn't privy to and I hated feeling like the third wheel.

Mike cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. "Quinn you're just in time to watch me and Mercedes practice for our routine next week. Mercedes, are you ready?" He held out his hand tentatively and waited for me to grab it. I felt like a fool and I wasn't going to stay around and let them make a bigger fool out of me.

"Actually," I shook my foot suddenly remembering my earlier injury and milking it. "My foot still hurts from class. I think I'll sit this one out."

Mike walked up to me and looked me in the eyes. "Are you sure?" I looked back at the graceful blond before responding. "Positive." Pushing Mike away from me, Quinn frowned. She looked genuinely disappointed. Seconds later her face perked up light she had the best idea in the world and she shared it. "Then maybe you can grab a beer at the bar with us. You can help me annoy this one until he agrees to come back to school."

Before I could say anything, Mike jumped in. "She uh…she can't go to a bar. She's too young. Besides, she wouldn't want to do anything like that anyway." What the hell? I may be a little slow on the uptake but I got it now…he saw me as a little kid. No wonder he never told her my age. I never felt so child-like in my life. Just because I wasn't 21 didn't mean I was a toddler.

She looked genuinely disappointed. I turned to her and tried to mask how hurt I felt. She turned to me and gave a consoling smile. "Well some other time then. It was nice to meet you." I grabbed my bag and tried to get the hell out of there. "Nice meeting you too." I practically ran out of the makeshift studio and just focused on getting to my car. I tried to speed up when I heard Mike excuse himself and ask me to wait up but my short legs were easily overpowered and he fell right into step with me.

"Mercedes, wait." He put a hand on my shoulder and I shrugged it away. "Let me explain." He stepped into my personal space and I never wanted to punch anyone more.

"Now you want to explain? You could have explained before I made a fool out of myself. Why'd you kiss me anyway? What…did you feel sorry for me? Poor kid had a little crush and you decided to humor me? I don't need your pity and I don't want your friendship!"

"It wasn't like that! I kissed you because I wanted to. This is all a big misunderstanding. If you would just—"

I cut him off. I knew it was wrong but right now I needed to be as far away from him as possible. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Believe me—it won't happen again." I didn't spare him a second glance before I peeled out of the parking space and headed home.

When Saturday morning arrived I hit the dismiss button on my alarm and went back to sleep. I spent the weekend hanging out with Tina at the mall and writing songs in my room. I didn't know how I was going to do it, but I planned on getting through this dance with Mike and move on.

I dragged my feet getting up for school on Monday. Mike had left me 15 voicemails—15. I tried to ignore how nervous I was about our last rehearsal before the performance. I didn't have to go back to class but I felt obligated to dance with Mike in this benefit. I owed it to the community center to get over myself long enough to try and save it. The day was a blur. Being a senior meant after your acceptances rolled in, you pretty much coasted. Or at least that's what it meant to me. Everyone was chattering about prom and I had to walk away before I hurt anyone's feelings. While they were focused on creating memories with their friends I was counting down the days before I got out of this town. T and I decided to go together to prom since there was no way Tina could get away with not going and my mom guilt me into it. We were just going to pick up some dresses at the consignment shop and do our own hair, nails and makeup. I never understood why girls spent so much money on a dress they only wore for a few hours (this may sound hypocritical, but I'd spend top dollar for a wedding dress. What? That's completely different). I was supposed to help out with the fundraiser tonight and planned on meeting Tina afterward.

Making my way to my car I walked slower when Sam sidled next to me and put his arm around my shoulders. "Hey Mercedes. I missed you in class Saturday."

I tried to nudge him away but he wasn't taking the hint. "What are you doing? Why are you talking to me?"

He continued walking with me and shrugged. "I don't know. I thought after last week we were friends?"

"Sam I think you're great and all, but we are not friends."

He sighed and looked a little sad. "You were right."

I didn't know what he was talking about. "What?"

"About me. About all of this not mattering in a few weeks. You were right. I realized I don't have any real friends."

"You're popular. Of course you have friends." Where was he going with this?

He shook his head and gave the saddest look I'd ever seen. "Not really. They just want to be around me because they want something from me or they're waiting for me to fail. No one's ever been as honest with me as you were without expecting anything in return. I'm actually kind of excited about starting over."

I looked at him. I never realized how similar we were before. I stepped away from him and held out my hand. "Friends?"

He moved my hand away and went in for a hug, swaying us from side to side. I couldn't help but giggle. "Okay, okay…Friends!"

We walked to my car in companionable silence until we got closer and I slowed down after seeing someone leaning on my car. I stopped quickly and Sam fell into me. I couldn't find words and there was no way I could turn back around.

"Mike?"

* * *

**Part VI**

There he was leaning up against my car with his leather jacket white tee and jeans. He was really being unfair.

He looked at me and smiled slightly but his expression changed when he saw Sam beside me.

"Hey Mike," Sam greeted, oblivious to the tension that fell.

He acknowledged Sam and I just wanted to be on my way but before I could think of a way out of this situation, Mike interrupted my thoughts. "Do you mind if I speak to Mercedes alone?"

My telepathy was obviously broken because I was sending all the nonverbal signals I could to the blonde beside me, silently asking him to stay so I wouldn't be further humiliated by Mike. As if a light bulb went off in Sam's mind he looked between the both of us. "Only if that's okay with Mercedes."

Glancing at Mike I could tell he wasn't going to leave until we talked so for once I was going to do the difficult thing. I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to assure Sam I would be alright. "It's fine."

He narrowed his eyes, making sure I was telling the truth. "Okay. I'll see you later," I watched Sam leave, hoping the distraction would allow me to formulate what to say before turning and talking to Mike.

"I thought you said you two weren't friends." Mike cut his eye at me and clenched his jaw. Was he being serious?

"We weren't," I answered defensively. "We are now."

"What kind of game are you playing Mercedes Jones?"

He must have been joking. "You're accusing me of playing games? Are you kidding? You who kissed me when he had a girlfriend? You who told your girlfriend about me but acted like a jackass when she mentioned us going to a bar? That's fucking hilarious coming from you!" I was so hurt and angry I felt like my blood was boiling. I finally understood I was more hurt that he seemed ashamed of me than from his rejection.

He took a deep breath. "She's not my girlfriend okay? She's a friend, a dancer, from school." He lifted my chin so I could look him in the eyes. "I like you, no one else. And I missed you. I missed talking to you, getting advice from you, finding out how amazing you are. And yeah, I could've handled that whole bar thing better"

I cut him off. "You didn't handle it at all!"

He just kept on talking. "But you could have been more mature about the situation."

"What?" I had so much to say, so much that I wanted him to know but that's all that came out. One sentence hit on all my insecurities and I wasn't sure being with Mike was worth it. I tried to hide the hurt in my voice but my voice, just like my face, was too expressive.

He sighed and sensed things were getting worse. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings but if you would have just talked to me I would've explained. But you chose to ignore my calls and not come to class. You know, I was worried sick. Everyone was worried sick." He took a deep breath and I could see his frustration building. "15 times I tried to call…15! And you couldn't bother to answer once? Was it really that important to punish me, to make me feel bad?"

I couldn't hear what he was saying, it all sounded like white noise. It felt like a lecture from a parent and the feeling was making me angrier. So I looked him in the eye and worked to take the emotion from my voice. "You're absolutely right Mike. You're this mature older man and I'm just this stupid little kid."

My response only fueled his anger. If one of us didn't calm down, we could say something we would regret. "You know, if I would've known it would have caused this much trouble I wouldn't have kissed you at all!"

Like that. Mike's words hurt. They made me wince. They made me want to forget I knew him. "Maybe you shouldn't have. I owe it to the people at the senior center to go through with the performance, but I don't need to see you outside of that. I'm not going to the last rehearsal and I won't come to class. You want to erase kissing me? I say let's take it one step further. Why don't we erase _everything_!" I didn't mean it, but he was acting so sanctimonious like everything was my fault. I wasn't going to let on about how much his words affected me.

He fired back. "Okay _that's_ real mature. Fine, since we're being childish why even bother performing together. I'm sure I can find a dancer to take your place."

I was a little stunned by his words and wondered how this conversation got so bad so fast. "Good. That makes things easier." I jumped in my car and tried to hide the tears that fell before driving to the community center.

He knew he was wrong but she made him so angry. She knew how to push his buttons and he let her. Still he couldn't understand why a lump was forming in his throat as he watched her drive away…again. He let out a yell, trying to release his pent-up frustration. Taking out his phone he called his friend who he knew could help him out of the bind he created. "Hey, Q. I need a favor."

* * *

**Part VII**

"Mickey," Quinn screeched to her suddenly rhythm-less friend after being dropped on her ass for the third consecutive time.

Mike looked over at Quinn and apologized for the millionth time that day. " Shit! I'm so sorry Q, are you okay?" The music, Quinn's movements and Mercedes' words were whirling around in his head making it impossible to concentrate. He hadn't faltered in a routine in years and never stepped on a partner's foot, until today.

She shook her head and waved his offer to help her up away. "Why don't we just stop now and hope for the best at the fundraiser?"

Mike sat, resigned, and blew out a deep breath. He looked utterly defeated. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been so…"

"Distracted," Quinn supplied from her spot on the floor.

"I was going to say uncoordinated, but distracted works."

Annoyed by her friend's stubbornness, she asked, "Why don't you just call her?"

"Who?"

Shooting him a look that said his coyness was annoying she answered. "Mother Theresa." She rolled her eyes and sat up. "Mercedes. You remember Mercedes right? Cute, short girl with sexy lips, a big ass, and bigger…" She held her hands out to her chest to emphasize her point biting back a moan.

"O…K. could you stop? Down girl." Mike laughed at his vulgar friend. Quinn didn't just come out of the closet; she catapulted out. She was never ashamed of her sexuality and her dirty mind never had an off switch. He admired how open she was about everything, although right now, he wished she would shut up.

"What are you going to do?"

Mike had been asking himself that question a lot lately. He knew he missed her. He knew being around her made him happy and that he looked forward to seeing her. What he didn't know was if it was worth it. They weren't even a couple and their relationship was volatile. Besides, she would be off at school in a few months and he would be here in Lima taking care of his father. "I don't know Q."

Wincing when she stood she grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "Well you better figure out soon because if you let me fall today, I'm kicking your ass." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek while he walked her to the door, his mind wondering how he was going to make things right with Mercedes.

—

I spun around in my usher's uniform as Tina jumped and clapped beside me. "Damn we look good." The crisp white button downs, black satin vest, and big black bowtie complemented the black wide leg pants perfectly.

"I know right? Maybe we should just wear this tonight instead of those poufy dresses." She scrunched up her face in disgust and I giggled.

"Oh please, T. I know you love that dress."

She smiled. "Guilty."

"I'm actually kind of excited about tonight. Isn't that weird? I thought I wanted to get out of here and never look back but now that it's actually happening, I'm a little sad."

"Aww Mercedes, don't be sad. I'll be right there with you at Ohio State next year." Out of the corner of her eye Tina saw Mike walking to the stage with Quinn beside him. "And so will a certain sexy dance instructor, she added wiggling her eyes.

"And so will his petite blond girlfriend," I fired back. "It doesn't matter I'm over it." I lied, but I hope T didn't notice.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Riiight."

Damn, I can't get away with anything. Focusing on my usher duties I handed more programs to people entering the rec room when Mike stumbled in front of me.

"Hey Mercedes," he greeted, rubbing a nervous hand on his neck.

I didn't think about this part. I had no idea how to act around him now so I chose the easiest emotion I could think of—ambivalence.

"I'm glad you found a replacement. Good luck up there." I even fail at nonchalance.

"Do you think we could talk after this?"

I looked over his shoulder to the stage. "Can't. Prom's tonight."

"Oh."

"You should hurry back, your girlfriend's going to be upset." I pointed to Quinn who was making her way over. Of course this would happen to me. To think, this day started off so good.

Mike rolled his eyes and started to walk away. "Whatever Mercedes. I don't know why I even bother."

"Me either," I yelled back.

Quinn saw the interaction and decided to take matters into her own hands. Falling dramatically she screamed and held her ankle.

Forgetting about Mike I ran over to her and T followed. Mike was already at her side when I reached her. "Quinn are you okay?"

She nodded solemnly and shrieked when Mike gingerly touched her ankle. Looking glumly at Mike she said, "I don't think I can dance on it. Mercedes, you have to take my place."

I looked at her for a few seconds and then back at Mike. If I had been paying attention I would have seen the subtle wink Quinn shot T.

Tina looked up at me and grabbed my shoulder. "You have to go up there and save the community center. I'll take care of Quinn. You two better hurry up. You're next."

Mike shook his head. "I'm not leaving you Q. You may need to go to the hospital."

Tina turned to Mike grinned threateningly. "Don't worry Mike. I'll handle it."

Quinn added. "Yeah you two go. I'll be fine."

I watched Mike stand slowly and I followed suit. We went backstage quickly, knowing we had a few minutes before we were supposed to perform.

I looked at Mike and sighed, just realizing something. "I can't go out there. I didn't bring anything to wear."

He smirked and grabbed his garment bag from a nearby chair. Unzipping it he unveiled my red tango dress I planned to wear for our performance. "How did you…?"

Taking the words out of my mouth he answered. "I didn't know. I figured I'd bring it along just in case." I was shocked. Even after everything we said to each other, he hoped we'd do this together. I jumped up and hugged him before rushing off to get changed for our performance.

My heart was beating out of my chest as soon as the music started. Right before we stepped out on stage Mike grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear, "Don't worry. You're going to be great." Damn him for being so perfect. I nodded and grabbed his hand, a little more at ease when we walked on the stage.

As soon as got up on that stage Mike was ready. He was such a natural performer. I didn't understand why he was choosing to be pre-med. He pulled me closer and my breath hitched. This man was so sexy. He was making it hard to focus on the dance. Adding a new step he held me closer and ran his hands up and down my sides. If he didn't stop soon I was going to forget we were in front of half the town and pounce on him. As if he heard me he pulled me away. Two can play this game. Touch for touch, we tried to one-up each other. Where he grazed his hand up my leg, I ran my hand down his abs. When he gripped me closer, I hooked my leg around his. We continued, neither admitting defeat until the song ended. We stood there chests heaving, arms tangled, and eyes darkened staring at each other, daring the other to make a move. He caved. Swooping down he kissed me. I gasped and his tongue slid in my mouth. He held me closer and I was melting in his arms. I was just about to deepen it when he stepped back. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he looked at the number and ran off.

I stood on stage with my mouth hanging open trying to catch my breath. What the hell just happened?

* * *

**Part VIII**

I stood in front of Tina's full length mirror twirling around in my dress. I'm glad I was wrong. When Tina first suggested we buy dresses from the thrift store, since those consignment shop dresses were crazy expensive, I had my doubts. It's already hard to find prom dresses in my size, but to find something at a thrift store? Impossible. I thought I was either going to look like a sausage or like I was wearing a muumuu. But this dress was beautiful. The A-lined peach tulle dress fit perfectly and I could care less about some of the sequins falling out of the bodice.

Looking in the mirror, I had to say I looked pretty good. Hell, who was I kidding, I looked _amazing_! "See," Tina smirked proudly. "I told you you'd look beautiful."

I moved away from the mirror and pushed her in front of it. "You don't look too bad yourself." Tina looked great in her tea length black one shoulder tulle dress. Even her formal faux hawk was so perfectly Tina, just like my side swept curls were perfectly me.

Tina turned from the mirror and grabbed my shoulders. "Are you ready to rock this shit tonight?"

I laughed and grabbed my clutch. "Hell yeah. Let's get out of here." It was weird to actually look forward to a school…anything, but I was kind of excited. Tonight was the perfect distraction from Mike. From the way his lips moved with mine and how embarrassed I felt standing on the stage by myself when he pulled away. I must have stayed up there a good couple of minutes before someone took pity on me and ushered me off the stage. But tonight, I was going to dance with friends take some pictures and continue to enjoy the countdown to Ohio State. Right now that was all I could manage focusing on.

Because my head would explode trying to figure out how he could kiss me like that and run away.

When we got there, it was all I could do to keep from laughing. The theme was 'under the sea' and honestly someone must have had a field day at the dollar store. Plastic fish were scattered on the floor and tables, blue construction paper had littered the walls, cheesy decorations, and tacky crepe paper streamers from floor to ceiling. Looks just about right for a senior prom in the middle of nowhere.

I was trying to hold it in but when I looked at Tina we both busted out laughing. Holding her side she wiped a tear from her eye. "We're so mean."

I laughed right along with her. "I know, but isn't it great?"

She pushed me slightly onto the floor. "Come on, let's make the best of it."

We must have danced four songs straight before grabbing something to drink. I was sitting down, nodding to the music. I was going to sit this one out until someone walked up to me. Holding out his hand Sam walked stood in front of me and asked, "Do you want to dance with me?"

I smiled up at him and placed my hand in his. "Of course."

If someone would have told me I would consider Sam Evans one of my closest friends by year's end, I would have thought they were crazy. But as we ready for graduation, I think I'm actually going to miss his sweet but goofy ass.

I was in my own little world out there, trying to forget how good it felt to dance with Mike, how secure I was in his arms. Sam's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Not bad right?"

I nodded. "No broken toes, no bruises on my calves. I'd say you definitely improved from the last time we danced together."

He drew a deep breath looking relieved. Then he smiled at me. "Good."

I moved my arms nudged him slightly. "Maybe you can show her what you can do."

I pointed in the direction of the girl Sam had been staring at while we danced. He had this look of panic on his face as he looked between me and her. "Oh no. No. I'm not ready for that."

I smiled at him. "You'll be fine." Before he could protest or run away, I flagged her down and watched as she walked over.

I saw him ask her to dance from my table. He was all stiff and awkward but she didn't seem to mind. In fact she looked like she was having a good time. At least he got what he wanted out of those dance classes.

After a few more dances with some friends, me and Tina parted ways—her to an after prom party in Puck's stank-ass basement while I headed back home.

—

It was such a perfect night I decided to park a few blocks away. Putting my hands in my pockets (I loved that this dress had them), I walked home slowly, actually enjoying the cool breeze. I used to do this all the time, it helped me clear my head when I was overwhelmed. I didn't have many more nights like this left.

I stopped in front of my porch approaching cautiously. I couldn't be seeing what I was seeing. It didn't make sense. I wasn't really seeing Mike sitting on my porch.

"Mike, what are you doing here?"

He stood up after he heard me and walked over. I knew something happened but I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. His eyes were big and glassy. I paused before he stood directly in front of me.

"Mike?"

I got really concerned when he slid both of his hands in mines and just looked into my eyes.

He gave me this big, goofy, adorable smile that reminded me of the first time I saw him. I waited for him to speak, but honestly he was killing me. Every second that went by without explanation led me to create my own, which given my tendency to overreact, was a horrible, horrible thing.

"It was my father. The call I got, it was about him."

I tried to be calm and let him tell me what happened. I gave his hands a squeeze and waited for him to continue.

He drew a deep breath. "He's coming home. They're finally releasing him."

I gave him a tight hug then. I was so relieved he was okay. I can see tears pool in his eyes though none fell. "That's fantastic news."

Mike nodded. "I know. But I never realized how fantastic until I talked to him. I told him everything, told him about dancing, about changing majors."

I was so proud of him. "What did he say?"

"He told me to that the only thing that mattered was that I was happy. He told me life is too short to live it with regrets. He told me to go after what I want, that he'd be proud of me no matter what I chose."

He laughed a little. "He told me exactly what you and Quinn have been telling me for months. I guess I just needed to hear it from him."

I understood that. He needed his parent's blessing. I was just so happy he was going to do what made him happy. Moving my hand from his, I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I knew it would all work out."

He took my hand again and kissed my palm. What the hell was he doing to me? Did he not know the effect his little touches and kisses had on me?

Lacing our fingers together he stepped a little closer. "It's not all worked out, at least not yet."

I guess my face gave away my confusion because he looked over at me and chuckled a little. "Wow, I'm horrible at this."

Okay, now I was officially lost. "Horrible at what?"

"At telling you how I feel, telling you what I want."

I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing at this point.

"Mercedes Jones you make me happy. You make me smile, you make me feel like anything is possible. I know I've confused you before, I've confused myself, but I want to make my intentions perfectly clear."

He took off his coat and slid it over my shoulders, rubbing my arms to keep them warm. I guess he thought I was cold. At the moment I couldn't tell if I was.

"I want to go back to school in the fall and be able to walk you to your classes. I want to hold your hand and cheer you on at the campus talent showcases. I want to dance with you anywhere just because. I want to be the one to cheer you up when you're down, the one you come to with good news. The shoulder you cry on. I want it all and I want it with you. I guess what I'm trying to say is…"

He stepped away and bowed slightly before offering me his hand. He was so adorable.

"May I have this dance?"

I nodded, curtsied, and took his hand in mine…again. Who would have known my mother signing me up for dance lessons would lead to this?

We weren't really dancing, just kind of holding each other and swaying side to side. My cheek was pressed against his chest and everything about this moment was perfect. Everything, except Mike's humming, that is. When I finally recognized the song I couldn't stop laughing.

"Really Mike? Of all the songs you could be humming, you're humming the national anthem?"

I shook my head and continued dancing with my…boyfriend?


	3. Some Assembly Required

It was Christmas Eve, and Mercedes was tiptoeing down the steps quietly, as to not wake up her daughter, who fought sleep all night until she lost the fight a few minutes ago.

Sam looked up at his wife and asked, "Is she finally asleep?" He'd got in from work and last minute Christmas shopping a few minutes ago and he looked worn down. Walking over to her husband she offered a chaste kiss before asking, "Did you get it?" The item in question was a Disney princess themed playhouse replete with shudders and window boxes under the tiny cottage style windows.

Sam smiled down at his wife. Ten years and her kisses still left him breathless. "I got the last one within a 5 mile radius," he beamed.

Mercedes stood and wrapped relieved arms around her husband before clapping excitedly. The little girl had been tenacious in her desire for the playhouse and Sam and Mercedes couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw it.

Stepping aside he pointed to the humongous box in the entryway. Mercedes walked up to it fretting. "Do you think we can put this together tonight?" Sam stood beside her studying the box. "Definitely. It says 'some assembly required' so that means its halfway done right?"

Wrong. In an hour Sam and Mercedes were ready to quit. They pulled everything out of the box and splayed it on the floor per the manual's instructions. From A-T all of the parts were laid out in alphabetical order. But the problem was there were so many pieces. And the pieces were so tiny. And the box lied. The only thing that was actually pre-assembled was the roof. Sam had every tool in the house in his arsenal and was still working on attaching one of the walls to the base.

She was gluing the wooden pegs in holes of the small wooden planks that when finished would form rails when she looked over at him. Her poor husband looked flustered, his cheeks were red and he was muttering and cursing trying to but the two walls weren't fitting together due to an earlier mistake. Apparently Sam got a little overeager when putting the cam locks in place, effectively stripping the screw. He was grateful there were so many extra pieces, or were there?

"Sam?" Mercedes was looking for a piece so she could move on to assembling the window boxes.

"Yeah," he answered distractedly.

She was lifting and sifting through all the materials to make sure she didn't miss anything. "Did you see the tiny screws? I need them to attach L to O," she said pointing to the tiny parts that she put next to each other.

Sam shook his head and continued his task, determined to put these walls together before midnight.

"But they were right next to you."

Sam ignored her. Jutting his tongue out in concentration he pushed the walls together not noticing his thumb in the way of his attachment. "I'll help you look for them after I finish putting these walls together babe," he offered, his voice straining from making sure the walls were properly secured. He cried out in pain when he realized his thumb was stuck in the juncture between the walls and pulled it out swiftly. Worriedly Mercedes ran to the kitchen to get her husband some ice and grab the first aid kit. Thankfully besides a little redness his thumb was fine.

He stood up and held out his sore thumb, looking every bit like the sleeping child upstairs. He winced a little looking down when he heard a clanging sound. There were the elusive tiny screws and they made an indentation on his calf where he sat on them. He looked at his wife sheepishly rolling his eyes when he heard her giggle. She looked over to her husband and kissed his adorable pout. Holding her close he whispered in her ear, "Merry Christmas love."

She smiled against his chest. "Merry Christmas Sam." They held each other for a few minutes, swaying to an inaudible song until Mercedes spoke again. "Why don't we take a break? I'll put some coffee on. You check on Kay and I'll grab the rest of the gifts from my car."

He looked over at the clock and yawned; surprised that it was already 1:30 in the morning. Nodding he went up the stairs to check on his daughter and grab his wife's gift—a chocolate diamond tennis bracelet. Opening his daughter's door he smiled as he watched her restlessly mumble with a big smile on her face. She was his world and had him wrapped around her little finger. Before he closed the door he heard her speak softly into the darkness, "Is it time yet Daddy?"

He smiled before answering her question. "Not yet Munchkin. Go back to sleep." He went to his room and pulled the thin box that held his wife's bracelet out of his nightstand. "She's going to love this." Making his way downstairs, he rushed to help his wife carry in the bagfuls of presents she was unsuccessfully holding. Looking in the bags he said a silent prayer of gratitude that the gifts were already wrapped before sneering at the half-completed playhouse sitting in the middle of their living room floor. Arranging the presents under the tree Mercedes grabbed his hand and led him to the mug on the coffee table. "Drink your coffee. We'll tackle this together."

It took two more hours and they had to reassemble the left side but they were finally finished. After Mercedes 'safety tested' the playhouse, ignoring Sam's snickering at how she was able to fit inside, they cleaned up and fell asleep on the floor immediately.

There was nothing 6-year-old Makayla Evans loved more than Christmas. She watched every Christmas special and ran around the house singing every Christmas song she knew at the top of her lungs. She began her countdown of Christmas when it was 12 days away obnoxiously singing the 12 days of Christmas repeatedly on the day it highlighted. There was no doubt about it, the tiny brown eyed little girl loved to sing. At 5 she woke up with a spring in her step, giddily bouncing down the stairs and gasping when she hit the bottom step. There were so many toys and she couldn't help but squeal when she saw the pink princess- themed playhouse—the thing she wanted more than anything in the world.

She looked over at her parents laying on the floor and debated if she should wake them or let them sleep. Eyeing the throw strung on the back of the sofa she grabbed it, placed it over all of them, nestled between her parents and fell asleep. Christmas wouldn't be fun if they weren't all awake to enjoy it.

Half an hour later Mercedes woke up. Nudging her husband, she gestured down until he saw his daughter who had her head on his chest. He gave her a kiss and spoke softly. "It's time." He ran a hand through her honey brown curls.

She jumped up and ran right into the playhouse, running her hands along the walls and chattering excitedly. Sam and Mercedes looked at each other, smiling at their daughter's reaction.

After she successfully opened all of her presents, making the living room floor look like a tornado ripped through it, Sam spoke. "So which one are you going to give away?" It became a tradition in the Evans household that Makayla pick one of her Christmas gifts and give it to a child in need. Unbeknownst to her parents she took the message literally and always chose her most treasured gift. Sighing dramatically she pointed to her playhouse.

Sam and Mercedes looked at each other shocked.


	4. Random Acts of Kindness

Mercedes groaned when she heard the unmistakable blare of her alarm clock. Whining she turned over and hit the dismiss button before standing up. Despite the presentation she prepared for work and the three hours of sleep she got she was giddy because it was Thursday.

Thursday meant breakfast with Peter Chang, an elderly man who lived two doors down. Their first meeting was complete happenstance.

_She was walking into her new apartment complex and some man threatened to kill her if she didn't hand over her bag. Stubbornly she refused him and he pushed her to the ground. Out of nowhere Peter comes out and defends her by punching her attacker and taking apart his gun. Mercedes watched in shock as the newly defeated man handed her purse back, apologized, and scurried off._

_She went to thank him but the gruff older man proved to be a curmudgeon. Pushing away her gratitude he turned and went back to his apartment as if nothing had happened. Determined to repay his good deed he did, she made him breakfast the next day. She knocked at his door with a huge smile on his face waiting for him to answer. She could hear movement in the apartment but after standing outside for 20 minutes no one opened the door. She kept knocking her version of the A Team theme song until the door swung open, startling her from the impact. Mercedes smiled; she knew she could annoy him enough to open the door. "Hi. My name is Mercedes and I made you breakfast to thank you for last night." He grumbled, ready to slam the door in her face but the aroma of whatever he cooked was too enticing. Without even looking at her he snatched the food, mumbling his response and closing the door. "Thanks. Let's call it even."_

That was a year ago. Gradually Peter opened up to her, telling her about his life and family. He told her about his time in the Air Force and meeting the love of his life, who died ten years ago. He told her about his stint as a professional boxer and his children. He invited her in and instead of watching him eat, she always brought enough so they could have breakfast together.

She always tried to keep a brave face in front of him but lately she was worried. His health had been declining and on more than one occasion she took him to the doctor and picked up his medicine. His arthritis rendered moving around difficult and took away his independence. Driving became impossible and it became painful to do menial tasks, like opening the door and buying groceries. Soon he offered her a key to his place, determined to continue their Thursday morning tradition.

Opening his door she was greeting with Peter sitting at the table waiting for her. She smiled walking over to him and giving him the hug he always complained about but not-so-secretly loved. "You're late," he whispered before she sat down and handed him the container with his breakfast. "It's nice to see you too Pete," she replied cheekily. "I made something different today—Denver omelet. Let me know what you think."

His brow crinkled. She smiled at his aversion to anything new. "Come on, try it please." She batted her eyes and smiled brighter until he took a forkful of the omelet into his mouth.

She watched with bated breath a he chewed slowly and deliberately. "Well…what did you think?"

He wiped his mouth before eating more. "It's amazing Mercedes, just like everything else you make."

She clapped giddily. "Oh I'm glad you like it."

He smiled and finished his meal. "So, are you ready for today?"

She nodded. "I'm a little nervous, but I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

"I'm telling you hon this is going to be the kick in the pants you need to jumpstart your career." Recently Pete had been on her about her fear of failure and her own aversion to anything new. They made a pact that they would both try one new thing a day. In fact, their pact led to her asking for a promotion and volunteering to do the presentation to show her worth.

She looked down at her watch. "Aw I got to run. I'll see you next week?"

Pete smiled and pushed his glasses up. "I'll be here."

Glancing around she checked to make sure he had enough food and his prescriptions weren't running low. "Stop worrying. I'm okay, promise. You know, you'd made some man very happy. I have a grandson who's a doctor…"

She rolled her eyes playfully and closed his refrigerator door, surreptitiously slipping in groceries she brought for him. Walking over to him she placed a kiss on his cheek. "Aw Pete, you know you're the only man for me."

He laughed before standing and hugging his friend. "Oh hun, you couldn't handle me." She joined in his laughter before hastily leaving for work. Showing up late for a presentation was _not_ the best way to argue a raise.

Wednesday night rolled around and she got word from her boss that her presentation not only went exceedingly well, but he saw her as an indispensable employee and offered her the vice president position along with a 25% salary increase. They were supposed to have breakfast in the morning but news like this had to be shared immediately. She ran to the market and got the finest steaks she could find, grilled them and added asparagus and roasted potatoes—his favorite meal.

Not bothering to knock she used her key and called out to her friend. "Pete I have a surprise for you." Heading for the cabinet she began getting out the plates and cups, setting up their dinner when she noticed how quiet the apartment was. Shuffling out of Pete's bedroom was a young tall man with a sullen expression and box in his hand. She was immediately alarmed but felt a sudden familiarity. "Where's Pete?"

He put the box down and struggled to answer her question. Clearing his throat he began as it dawned on him who she was. "You're Mercedes. I'm Mike. My grandfather wanted us to meet. "

She nodded cautiously and asked her question again. Her smile dropped thinking about why Mike would be in his apartment. "Where's Pete," she asked already knowing, and dreading, the answer.

He sighed and walked over to her. "My grandfather died in his sleep this morning."

She stepped back, reeling from his confirmation. Pete was the most influential person in her life and he was gone in the blink of an eye. He heart hurt, her brain hurt, everything just hurt and felt heavy now that he was gone. She looked over at Mike and could see the pain in his eyes. He was hurting too. She made a decision that the new thing she tried today would be selflessness. Tamping down her sorrow she wrapped the doctor in a hug before picking the box up off the floor. "How can I help?"

They spent hours going through Pete's things and telling each other their favorite memories of him. They found themselves laughing, shedding tears, and smiling at the indelible impact Pete left on their lives. She saw how kind Mike was and immediately knew why Pete wanted them to meet. Soon their fitful conversation quieted and they fell asleep in each others arms while Pete's things were sprawled around them.

Waking up this morning was exceptionally difficult as she realized this would be her first Thursday morning without Pete. She sighed as she nuzzled into the Mike's comforting embrace. They stayed huddled together on the floor until he untangled his limbs from hers and stood. Putting out a hand he pulled her up and laced their hands together. She smiled at his actions and he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. She leaned into him when he asked, "Do you want to get a cup of coffee? Maybe start a new tradition?"

She nodded as he mindlessly caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. "I'd like that."


	5. Do You Remember

Mike lay paralyzed on the floor with his hands crossed on the back of his neck, and stared into the eyes of his beloved. He saw the fear, anger and nervousness written on her face and he wanted, needed to comfort her. Wordlessly he begged her to focus on him, focus on the fact that he loved her and he would do everything in his power to ensure she made it out of this alive, that they made it out of this alive. He wanted her to focus on their future and the bright beginning they just sealed and ignore the shards of glass around them and the blood that began to pool on the carpet in front of them. She seemed to respond to his plea looking at him worriedly while biting her trembling lip. He saw moments of his life flash before his eyes. His first day of school, first kiss, prom, graduation, college— all of his poignant moments involved her, the girl he loved. The girl he would always love.

**Do you remember when we first met? I sure do.**

**It was some time in early September. **

_Mike had always been an observant child. Quick to listen and slow to speak, he understood the power of silence. It was worth more than any word or sound. In his mind silence equated to strength, so he was perplexed as to why he was drawn to sound. Not just any sound, her sound. He followed her laughter, radiating from her mouth like bursts of sunshine and found her standing with a group of girls in the deserted hallway. Mesmerized he admired her from a distance too nervous to approach her and too unsure of what to say. She was Mercedes Jones, a freshman like him who had just moved to town and coincidently the most beautiful thing he had ever seen._

**You were lazy about it, you made me wait around**

**I was so crazy about you I didn't mind **

_The more he found out about the girl the more he wanted to learn. In his eyes she was perfect—smart, kind, generous and beautiful which only made him more skittish to approach her. He knew he didn't deserve her and became content to just be near her. So he suffered in silence for nearly a year, but the night of the spring formal he resolved to at least speak to her. That was two hours ago. He watched her dance with everyone until he could muster up the courage to ask. Now they were at the final dance and he feared he missed his chance. Giving up he tossed his cup in the trash, ready to go home when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Mike?" He looked up to find her looking at him, her big sable eyes fixing him where he stood. Holding out her hand she smiled asking shyly, "would you like to dance with me?" He was shocked. Too afraid to ruin the moment he simply nodded and grabbed the hand she offered. It was smaller, softer than his own but he couldn't help but notice it fit perfectly. Years later she revealed she waited for him to make a move before realizing he never would, so she took a chance. He was beyond grateful she did._

**I was late for class, I locked my bike to yours**

**It wasn't hard to find ‒ you painted flowers on it**

**I guess that I was afraid that if you rolled away**

**You might not roll back my direction real soon.**

_They spent the summer learning more about each other and every time she got him to open up, he fell deeper for her. They bonded over their love of science, music and dancing. He was determined to keep her happy and keep her close. Summer soon faded to fall and they began sophomore year together. He was afraid they would drift away once they went back to school but his fears faded when he saw her waiting for him by the bike rack. They were great friends but he wanted to be more, she meant more. She was his shooting star—bright, beautiful, and illuminating his dark night sky. He had to at least try to catch her, hold on to her perfection before she left him. Riding his usual route to school he found an old abandoned tree house with a telescope jutting out the window and formed a plan. He was going to fix it, make this their place. He smiled thinking about her reaction; hoping against hope that she would accept it, accept him._

_Realizing the time he hopped on his bike and pedaled to school, knowing he was going to be late. He smiled when he found the only available spot on the bike rack was next to her bike—it was unmistakable. It was purple and sparkly with daises painted on it and 'save the earth stickers plastered on the handlebars. He took it as a sign that if he asked, she would say yes and that feeling got him through the detention he knew he would receive for being late. _

**I was crazy about you then and now The craziest thing of all,**

**Over ten years have gone by**

**And you're still mine,**

**We're locked in time Let's rewind.**

_He went back to just 30 minutes ago when he was waiting for her to arrive at the bank. She was usually late so he told her the meeting was an hour before its actual time. At least now she could blame it on the pregnancy, which in his eyes, gave her all the passes in the sat with the loan officer while he waited subconsciously patting his hand over the pocket that held her engagement ring. Tonight was going to be the night that everything changed, that they moved closer to being man and wife. He had it all planned out. The only thing that would make it better would be if the bank approved their loan application for the house. Normally resistant to change, he was actually excited about the changes to come knowing they would happen with her by his side_.

**Do you remember When we first moved in together?**

**The piano took up the living room.**

**You'd play me boogie woogie, I played you love songs**

**You'd say we're playing house, now you still say we are.**

_They sat in the living room, huddled over the coffee table eating their pepperoni pizza. Boxes were piled as high as the ceiling and Mercedes looked at the huge elephant in the room, the baby grand piano that left no space and meant turning sideways to get to the kitchen, with a sneer. She wondered how they were going to fit everything in here and share the space. It was impossible—both were used to living alone and now they had two of everything. He laughed at her expression, advising her that if she really didn't want the thing she shouldn't have sung so well in the competition knowing the baby grand was the prize. Without a good reply she took a piece of pepperoni off her pizza and flung it in his direction, giggling when the greasy meat hit his forehead and slid down his face. He popped the pepperoni in his mouth and nuzzled his face against hers, making sure the grease transferred to her perfect button nose._

_Holding her close, having this space of their own was worth the thousands of trips up and down the stairs, the stubbed toes and parking tickets associated with this move. Feeling inspired, he grabbed her hand and led her to the piano where they sang and played together._

**We built our get away up in a tree we found.**

**We felt so far away but we were still in town.**

_He recalled the night before they went off to college—him to Chicago and her to California. As far as he was concerned the distance between the two might as well have spanned two oceans. She was his resting place and he couldn't imagine spending nights without her. He told her he would forfeit his scholarship and try to find a school closer to California, closer to her. She told him that a love that couldn't withstand distance was no love at all. That was the night he first told her he loved her and the night they made love under the stars._

**Now I remember watching that old tree burn down**

**I took a picture that I don't like to look at.**

_He remembered coming back to their sacred place during winter break his first year at school. The distance was killing him and pretty soon he began to pick fights. He was weak, he missed her but she seemed to be thriving where she was. Instead of talking to her he let the distance build until it created an irreparable rift in their relationship. She broke up with him last month and he had been spending that time trying to figure out how to be okay without her. Driving to the store for his mother, he stopped the car one he saw it—their tree, their special place was up in flames. He watched in horror as the treehouse that was engulfed in smoke started to crumble. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at the symbol of his failed relationship collapse. Saddened and stunned he pulled out his phone and took a picture. He focused on the ground and saw a flower growing near the scorched earth, unaffected by the fire. It gave him hope. It let him see promises could be renewed and things could be good, if not better than before. It helped him remember to fight for what was important. With a new perspective and steely determination he went to her parent's house determined to fight for their relationship._

**Well, all these times they come and go**

**And alone don't seem so long**

**Over ten years have gone by**

**We can't rewind, We're locked in time **

**But you're still mine **

H_e looked into her now glassy and fearful eyes and thought back to when she told him she was pregnant. She had been acting strange for a while and just threw a fit about how small their apartment was. He sat her down and gently wiped her tears. She told him she was pregnant in such a small voice he wondered if he heard her correctly. Moving her hands from her face he lifted her chin and let her see the happy tears in his eyes. He kissed her tenderly and let her know how excited the news made him. They were his family. This miracle belonged to them alone. He told her not to worry, that he would always be there to take care of her and promised they would begin house-hunting immediately._

**Do you remember? **

He looked at her now, still amazed by her beauty. She was everything he never knew he needed and he was grateful for every day he got to spend being hers. Eyes never falling he smiled faintly before mouthing 'I love You.' She stared at him and smiled back. She was still fearful but at peace, somehow knowing everything would be okay. She stared until the robbers slipped a black bag over her head and she couldn't stare anymore.

* * *

Song: Do You Remember-Jack Johnson


	6. A Mikecedes Christmas

Mike closed the door after handing the delivery-man the money for his wings and surveyed his empty apartment. With Mercedes gone it was a lot emptier. He was going to miss her but he always loved this time of the year. Christmas meant Mercedes was back home in Ohio with her family and he had the apartment to his self for a week. He enjoyed the solitude but felt uneasy about how much she had been on his mind recently. They were friends, good friends, but lately Mike couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to be more.

He and Mercedes met while they were attending Berklee together as freshmen. Bright and idealistic, he was going to school for modern dance and she dove head first into her music composition major. Soon their paths diverged, him dropping out of Berklee and transferring to neighboring Boston College for a degree in business, and her following her dreams and becoming a music teacher while working on her demo. Always levelheaded, he gave up dancing to focus on a more practical career, but he always admired his friend for having the courage to pursue her dreams. An overflow of campus housing at Boston College and an unfortunate run in between Mercedes and her crazy roommate prompted the friends to move in together. That was seven years ago, and they were still roommates.

He shut the refrigerator door and pulled out two beers turning to an ESPN classic boxing match from the 80's. Mike lounged on his comfortable couch and laughed at all the glaring contradictions around him. This place was so perfectly theirs—the subdued earth tones in contrast with the loud purple and animal print accents, the stainless steel and metal furniture near the homey pillows and flowers. He grabbed one of the glitter throw pillows and ran his hand though it, thinking of how excited his friend was when she brought them home from an impromptu shopping spree last fall. Noticing what he was doing he flung the pillow to the other side of the couch and shook his head. Opening the wings he sighed as he grabbed the vegetables first. Even without being here Mercedes was on his mind. She always chastised him for throwing out the celery and carrots that came along with the wings calling him a 'caveman' so he rationalized that eating the vegetables first was just a habit and had nothing to do with the smile his doe-eyed friend emitted when he did so.

Dozens of half eaten chicken bones and mountains of napkins later, a felling of profound sadness washed over him. For the first time, Mike regretted turning down her offer. He rolled his eyes thinking of all the tricks she tried to get him to spend Christmas with her family over the years—guilt, rationalizations, and even blackmail, but he never budged. Like he always told her he had his Christmas traditions and she had hers. The Changs rarely showed emotion, and all the sappy family togetherness people normally associate with the holidays was lost on them. They usually spent Christmas week sunbathing in Corsica or Monte Carlo, each doing their own thing. He didn't feel his family would miss him so as soon as he got of age he opted out of the Chang family lonely vacation and spent the day in front of the TV watching sports instead.

Watching an old unfulfilling boxing match wasn't helping his melancholy so he flicked through the channels and settled on watching the news. '_Schools and airports are closed as half the country braces for record falling snow, more details when we come back.' _Immediately Mike thought of Mercedes and was thankful she got out of town just before flights were grounded. _He hoped._

A jingle of keys and the turn of the lock dashed those hopes.

He turned to see his friend trailing in the room and lugging her bags behind her with a forlorn expression on her face. He could tell that she had been crying. If the puffy eyes and red nose weren't enough of an indication he could see the tears drying on her cheeks. He stood up and his heart broke for her. Anyone who knew Mercedes knew she was pretty relaxed on most things but three topics always had her acting out of character: music, shoes and Christmas. The girl had been singing Christmas songs since November and counting down the days until she could spend time with her family since Halloween. With all of her spare time going towards working on her demo, spending Christmas with her family was the only time of the year she saw them. Before he could open his mouth she went into her room and locked the door behind her, collapsing on her bed in sobs.

He didn't know what to do. When confronted with too much emotion he usually shut down as memories of his high school girlfriend played in his mind. There was never an occasion when the girl's crocodile tears wouldn't make him cringe, and he vowed to never get into another situation like that again. This time was different somehow. He felt compelled to make sure Mercedes was okay. It mattered that she was hurting. Walking over to her room he took a deep breath before knocking gently on the door.

"Cedey-bug? Can you let me in?" He heard her sniffle and waited for her to answer the door. "Come on, open the door please." He pressed his ear to the door silently willing her to speak to him. He heard her muffled response a minute later. "Christmas is ruined and I won't be able to see my family until next year. I know it doesn't mean a lot to you but Christmas means _everything_ to me. I just need to be alone right now. Can you just leave me be please?" After 10 minutes of no response he gave up. Well versed on all things Mercedes he knew when she needed to be comforted and when she needed to be alone just as he knew the different hues of brown her eyes could take. How her deep sable eyes would light up when she was talking about her music or how they reflected flecks of gold when discussing her family. He knew how the tone of voice could go from threatening to playful in mere seconds and how the sound of her laugh could instantly make his worst day his best.

He hated everything about Christmas, even going so far as refusing her requests to decorate the apartment. She jokingly called him a Grinch, but he didn't mind the title. Now he was planning to do something very un-Grinch like. Her smile, her innocence made him think there were some things worth fighting for. It made him think there were some things worth protecting. Ignoring everything he hated about the holidays, he grabbed his coat and wallet and set out to make things a little better for his friend.

He didn't want to stay out too long just in case she emerged and needed a shoulder to cry on so he went to a discount department store 15 minutes away and tried to get everything he could to salvage her Christmas. He grabbed the tree and decorations first before looking for the perfect gift to lift her spirits. He found himself in the jewelry aisle thumbing through the necklace display when a saleslady offered him assistance. Pulling up the gold box necklace with the music note charm he smiled and replied, "No thanks. I just found the perfect thing." She furrowed her brow and looked between Mike and the necklace. "Tell me about the girl."

Mike wasn't used to telling anyone his private thoughts, much less a stranger so he was understandably reluctant to talk to her. He saw her welcoming smile and reasoned she wouldn't remember what he told her anyway so he might as well spill. Besides, he'd been holding his feelings in far too long and was dying for a sounding board. Uncharacteristically he began talking was finding it difficult to shut up.

She didn't know this young man but could tell he was in love with his friend. His features instantly softened when talking about her, eyes lighting up. His smile was so genuine and infectious that she couldn't help but mimic it. Gently taking the necklace out of his hands she patted his shoulder. "Young man, I don't think this is the right gift for the girl…it's a little impersonal."

Mike was confused. Weren't salespeople in the business of making money? He didn't want to spend hours looking for something when he just found the perfect gift. He thought of snatching the necklace back and ignoring the lady's advice when he saw it. An aisle over a snow globe was haphazardly nestled in the handbags. Walking over to it he gasped—it was perfect. It depicted a father and daughter cheering at an Ohio State game after the team got a touchdown. The scene immediately reminded him of Mercedes' tales about going to her father's homecoming games and cheering for his former school. Winding the silver knob he smiled when it played the Ohio State rally song.

"Aren't you happy you held out until you found something perfect?" Mike smiled at her friendly chastisement and turned around to thank her for her help.

After his third trip back to the apartment he went to go check on Mercedes. Before he knocked he could hear her on the phone. She seemed to be talking with her mom and arranging to visit sometime soon but with the newest winter storm set to arrive in a few days, she warned it wouldn't be possible to travel for a few weeks. When he heard her ask her mother to wish the family a Merry Christmas and send her love he walked away, more determined than ever to make this day memorable. After putting the tree up and adding lights and ornaments he went about decorating the entire apartment. When he was finished he took the traditional meal out of the take out bins and put everything on a plate. He was about to go knock on Mercedes' door when he heard it creak open.

She stood with her mouth open taking in the apartment. It was all Christmas-y and Mike hated Christmas so she knew he did this for her. Her heat fluttered at the gesture and she smiled fondly at him, knowing this was why she loved him so much. Fumbling over to her Mike stopped and tried to explain. "I know it isn't the Christmas you wanted, with your family and all, but I.."

Before he could finish his petite roommate wrapped her arms around his torso tightly. She looked up at him and gave a sweet watery smile. "I can't believe you did all of this for me. Thank you."

Having her eyes on him, giving him her full attention was overwhelming. Looking for a distraction he stopped when his eyes found the snow globe. "I have something for you." Unwrapping from her embrace he handed her the snow globe. She held it fondly, tracing the scene in the sphere before shaking it up and watching the snow fall. Flipping it upside down she found the music dial and turned it. She closed her eyes as the sounds of the Ohio State rally song filled the apartment.

She didn't say a word and Mike feared she hated it. "If you don't like it, I can get you something else." She shook her head and finally looked up at him, tears streaming down her eyes. "Mike I love it. This is the best present I've ever had." Unable to contain her emotions, she hugged him fiercely and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. "You're amazing. Merry Christmas Mike."

He sighed as he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. "Merry Christmas Cedey-bug." Tomorrow he could figure out how to tell her he loved her, but for now he was happy to hold her in his arms.


	7. The Bucket List

Mercedes sat in her car watching the rain pour down. Rubbing her hands through her short hair she felt freer than ever and now she was going to start living. Jumping out the car she squealed as the first drops of rainwater hit her face. Running barefoot she let the damp grass beneath her feet guide her to the middle of the deserted park where she began to spin until she got dizzy. She lay on the grass letting it run through her short fingers. Closing her eyes she let the rain seep into her pores as she thanked God for this day. Months of chemo, radiation and overall tiredness took its toll on the petite woman and when her doctor announced her cancer free she made a decision to treat everyday as a gift. When she heard the thunder she was reminded why people don't run around and lay out in open spaces in the rain. Mercedes quickly made her way back to her car. Although she was more spontaneous now she was still Mercedes and seeing the extra clothes and towels in her back seat comforted her. Drying herself off and changing her clothes she turned her heat on and dragged the crinkly paper out of the glove compartment. Using a red pen she drew a line over an item on her list and put it back where it came from.

She arrived at the diner some time after wondering why she never set foot in this place before. She winced as the endless flashbacks of body shaming and food policing inundated her psyche. Being the 'big one' in almost every occasion wreaked havoc on her self-esteem as she was taught to try and not call attention to her weight. So she dutifully avoided eating in public places, always ordered salads, sat at the extreme end of seats scrunched up uncomfortably and wore dark and neutral colors. Now the only thought on her mind was _fuck that_. This was her life and she was going to live it on her terms. If she wanted a cheeseburger, she was going to get it. She smirked looking down at her leopard print top and dark skinny jeans—not overtly flashy but a step in the right direction.

Appraising the 1950's theme diner she spotted the jukebox in the corner and selected a song. Seating herself she didn't bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what she wanted. She unapologetically ordered dessert and smiled when she was presented with the piece of triple chocolate cake she ordered. She always wanted to try it but her parents never let her have cake, opting instead for fruit salads at her birthday parties. She asked the waitress for a doggy bag, knowing she couldn't finish the decadent dessert. She wasn't going to gorge, but she wasn't going to limit herself and count calories like before. She was about to dig in when she saw him shuffle in. He looked miserable. There were dark circles under his eyes and his tie was disheveled. He looked like he needed a friend. Sighing she asked the waitress to add whatever he was having on her bill, hoping a random act of kindness would cheer him up. Grabbing her belongings she slid on the other side of the booth he occupied. He looked up at her questioningly and went back to his cup of coffee, barely acknowledging her presence. She took her first bite of her cake and moaned softly at how good it tasted. After eating in silence for a few minutes she set her fork down and looked at him. "No offence, but you look like shit."

That seemed to get his attention and the morose man glared at her. "Look Miss, I'm really not in the mood." Mike was usually respectful but now all he wanted was to be left alone. He lost his job and on the way home to drown his sorrow in Scotch, he lost his fiancée. Realizing he had nowhere to go, he wandered around the town with the ratty box of his belongings until he found the diner. He honestly didn't think he could handle anything else happening today and sincerely hoped the annoying woman sitting in front of him would leave him the hell alone. Realizing she wasn't going to anywhere, he motioned for the check so he could get out of there and go…somewhere.

She chuckled and smiled when he looked at her utterly confused. "Wow, I've never had someone want to run away from me so quickly. You just broke a record."

He sighed, suddenly feeling guilty for dismissing someone whose only crime was sitting in a booth with him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I'm just having…"

"A bad day," she supplied knowingly.

He couldn't help the derisive snort that escaped. "That's putting it mildly."

"So…tell me about it I'm a good listener." She had no idea why she was being so pushy but there was something _familiar_ in his eyes and she had a strong urge to make him feel better. Grabbing her wallet she took out a penny and slid it in front of him. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He laughed a little, his first since his shitty day started. She was a stranger, a nuisance but for some reason he felt that he could trust her. That he could tell her his darkest secrets and not be judged so the normally guarded man did something he never had before—he told her everything. He told her about his boring life and dedication to his company, his secret passion, his 5-year-plan and about his walking in on fiancée cheating on him. He watched her warily awaiting her reaction. He was shocked—she didn't judge him or make him feel worse. She merely listened and he had no idea how much he needed that at the moment.

His cheeks felt tight and he touched them, surprised to find he was smiling. Mike suddenly found himself saddened when the waitress placed his bill upside down on the table. He knew it was over, that some crazy stranger with the kindest eyes he had ever seen made him feel better and he was probably never going to see her again.

"Hey," she asked, breaking him out of his contemplation. "Tell me something that's on your bucket list."

His face scrunched in confusion. "Bucket list?"

"Yeah," she nodded before continuing. "Things you plan to do before you die."

Mike shook his head. He never had many goals outside of working hard. Now that he thought about it work consumed every aspect of his life and he kind of felt relieved to get a reprieve.

"Honestly, I don't even have one."

She strummed her tiny fingers on the table. "Okay, tell me something you've always wanted to do, but are too afraid to try. "

His eyes lit up at the thought but he quickly shook it away.

She broke into a smile watching his expressions. "Oh come on you can't leave me hanging."

"Well, there's something I wanted to try but it's irresponsible."

"I like the sound of it already." She leaned into the booth and closer to Mike and waited for him to begin.

"I've always wanted to dine-and-dash. I think it would be exciting, you know? Especially since everyone jacks up the prices on food for a bigger profit. But that's just so wrong, I could never do something like that. " He shrugged. "The little guy always ends up getting hurt." Sipping the last remnants of coffee, he set the mug down and placed it back on the saucer.

She smiled. He didn't need to know that she already paid his bill. Her eyes went to the box he brought in and she saw his wallet and keys on top, just begging to be taken out. "Well I say there's no better time than the present to start doing thing you've always wanted to."

Grinning at him and wiggling her eyebrows, she swiped his keys, phone and wallet and ran from the diner.

He sat shocked that she actually ran off with his stuff. His mind short-circuited. Of course she was a thief. She was way too kind and caring to be real. He couldn't believe he was so gullible. Mike sat there for a few minutes just processing what happened when something inside of him snapped. Normally he was cautious and would never chase after a thief, but he couldn't stomach another bad thing happening to him today. Standing up, he ran in the direction he saw her rush towards. He looked all around, sighing when he noticed how empty the streets were. Surveying the open field near the town's water tower, he gave up and was ready to make his way back to the diner when he saw her. Squinting and looking up he could barely make out the diminutive girl shaking his keys on top of the tower. She was taunting him, dangling his keys in her hand and laughing.

Mike Chang hated heights; he hated them ever since he got separated from his parents on the top of the Sears Tower when he was 7. Besides, being up high made him vulnerable and he liked being in control. He needed it. This girl was taking him out of his comfort zone. He cursed Mercedes with every step he made up the rusty ladder. When he made it to the top, breathing heavily and watched her feet dangling off the edge, his anger ebbed and was replaced with relief. He couldn't even yell at her, just closed his eyes and prayed the world would stop spinning. Without hesitation he took the hand she offered and squeezed tightly, feeling his heartbeat return to normal. He turned and opened his eyes slowly. For the first time that night he really saw her—her eyes were contemplative, her hands warm. She had this glow, this warmth about her that drew him in. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "I don't get you at all. I mean you steal my wallet, make me chase you up this rickety thing and all I feel is relief." He peered over the edge slightly and jerked back to where she sat. "Why are we up here anyway?"

She smiled, bright and brilliant. "Because this was on _my_ bucket list. Helping you get over your fear of heights was just a bonus."

He pushed away from her, eyebrows knotted. "What's your angle? What do you want from me?"

She smirked. "Honestly?"

He nodded, waiting for her to continue. "I just want you to be happy. I want you to do what you want to do, fuck everyone else."

He was speechless. He never knew anyone who just wanted him to be happy. His parents had wanted him to be successful, his friends wanted him to be just like them. Hell, his ex-fiancée wanted his life to revolve around her. She was the first person he ever met who genuinely just wanted him to be happy—no pretense, no agenda. He leaned over and gently nudged her shoulder. "You're kind of amazing, you know that?

She giggled and nudged him back. "I know." He felt all of the tension leave his body. Just talking to her, being near her was making everything better.

Watching the town below he smiled when he felt her head on his shoulder. He savored her touch, placing his head on top of hers. She placed his wallet, keys and phone in his hand and broke the quiet moment by saying, "You don't have to be what they want you to be you know."

He slid the items in his pocket. Without moving her gaze she lifted his left hand and tenderly kissed his palm before slowly placing it over his heart. "You feel that? Go past the mask you wear for everyone. Stop basing you life off of others' expectations and follow your heart."

He wondered if she knew how beautiful she was as his thumb outlined her face, paying extra attention to her lips. He leaned in closer and held her cheek before placing a soft kiss on her lips. He could feel her warm breath tickle his face and watched as her eyes fluttered open. She nuzzled closer to him and he held her in his arms. He didn't know what tomorrow held and he didn't particularly care. He was living in the moment, and in the moment he couldn't think past the gorgeous girl beside him. For the first time in his life he was going off script and it was freeing.


	8. Lonely Hearts Club

Mercedes trudged into her apartment with handfuls of gifts and sighed heavily. It used to be her and her friends ordering takeout, watching movies and playing cheesy games. They were the lonely-hearts club and they spent Valentine's Day together since they always seemed to be alone on the holiday. Their Valentine's Day get-togethers had dwindled lately—what with Puck, Finn, and eventually Quinn getting married, Mike and Mercedes were the last singletons left in the original group. In recent years the gathering held greater significance since they usually occurred right before or after a break-up. Mike and Mercedes couldn't seem to keep a significant other around the romantic holiday and always ended up gravitating towards each other.

But this year was different. Mike was seeing a girl and had been for 8 months. This was going to be the year Mercedes was alone for Valentine's Day and without her friend, she was feeling it. Luckily some potential clients showered the firm with gift baskets and she snagged a few of their wine bottles and cheese platters to take home. Slipping on her pajamas and throwing her hair in a messy ponytail, she sat on her plum colored couch with food splayed across the coffee table ready to watch the first of many horror movies she had queued. She was the picture of comfort in her bleach-stained blue Capri yoga pants and her black v-neck shirt. As soon as she pushed play and poured her first glass she heard a knock at the door.

She opened the door, mouth slightly agape, and took in her disheveled friend. Mike's tie was loosened, his hair mussed and a purpling bruise was on his cheek.

She stepped to the side and let him in. "What happened to your face?" She ran to the kitchen to get her first aid kit and some ice.

He started pacing in the living room. "I thought it was going well, right? She was intelligent, sweet and sexy. I could see myself marrying this woman."

She nodded and waited for him to continue before closing the freezer door and handing him a bag of ice. Grabbing his arm she forced him to sit beside her. She was worried that the bruise was worse than it looked so she gently put the arm holding the ice to his cheek down so she could see the wound was okay for herself.

Mike winced slightly but kept on talking. "My first time thinking about long-term commitment in a long time. We were talking about her possibly moving in. All of a sudden she starts crying. Not even little tears— she's sobbing so loud that everyone in the restaurant was looking at us. She kept going on and on about her other boyfriend."

Her eyebrows lifted when she heard that. There was nothing Mike hated more than a liar— that and someone making a scene. This girl managed to commit all of Mike's vices in one act. She always knew that girl was suspect. Ignoring the urge to track this girl down and make her rue the day she hurt Mike, Mercedes focused on the matter at hand. "She has another boyfriend?" She stood and grabbed the ice, dumping the remnants in her kitchen sink. She had to do something to relieve her idle hands.

He took his blazer off, getting more comfortable on the couch. "Not even the worst part. He shows up at the restaurant, looking like he just escaped from prison, and before I could do anything he hit me." She went over to the table and grabbed the extra glass she put out from her last trip to the kitchen. Joining him on the sofa she poured some champagne in the glass and slid it in front of him.

"My poor baby…you really have the worst taste in women." She rubbed his shoulder consolingly. "Look on the bright side. She's not the worst girl you've dated. What about that girl who kept scratching during your dates?" She tried to stifle a giggle by clearing her throat biting into a piece of cheese.

"Michelle?" He rolled his eyes, already knowing where this was going.

"Yeah, didn't she have fleas?" She couldn't contain her laughter as she bellowed loudly, her sounds filling the void the silence left. Getting comfortable she placed her legs on his lap as she sat sideways.

He hid his face before throwing the couch pillow at her. "That's not funny. I thought it was just dry skin. You know I had to fumigate. Stayed here for a week."

She caught it and tucked it under her back. "Serves you right. Nobody told your horny ass to invite her over your house after dating for two hours." She nudged his thigh with her foot.

"Okay that was bad. But Michelle was no worse than Mark."

She pursed her lips and took another sip of wine at the mention of her ex's name.

"Do we have to bring him up," she whined.

"Quid pro quo, baby. Quid pro quo." He laughed at the mortified look on her face.

"So he tried to pay with an expired coupon. I paid my half and left out.

I bet he's still cleaning dishes. It's not funny." She reached forward and plucked his shoulder. "I can't go back there again and you know how much I loved their food. Every time I walk past Cavelli's I put my head down." He stifled his laugh and smiled at her adorable pout. Feeling he was staring longer than a friend should, he grabbed the bottle, cleared his throat and funneled more champagne into her glass.

"Well what about Lisa?" She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow as her smirk widened.

He shuddered at the name.

"I don't know who you're talking about." He opened up the box of chocolate covered strawberries, bit into one and looked away from her.

She giggled. "Yeah you do. You know, that girl who spent one semester in China and thought she knew _everything_ about Asian culture?"

He grimaced at the memory of the cultural appropriating white girl wearing a kimono and telling his mother her cooking wasn't 'Oriental enough', whatever the hell that meant. "I thought we never agreed to speak of her."

"Mama Chang made me promise to call her if you ever went out with that girl again. I have never seen your mom so mad before."

"Don't remind me. I had to get Lisa out of that house for her own safety. Okay, Lisa was my worst, but what about you? Remember what you did to poor Derek?"

She shook her head and concentrated her eyes on the liquid she swirled in her glass. "I don't know what you're taking about."

He scratched his head dramatically to emphasize his point. "You don't? I distinctly remember you asking me to pick you up from that bar because your boyfriend was arrested and you were stranded."

She groaned. Her cheeks were flushed but she couldn't tell if it was from the embarrassment or alcohol. "That was not my fault. How was I supposed to know he was wanted for not paying child support?"

He saw how embarrassed she was getting so he gently moved her hands from her face and reached for his glass. "So we're due some good ones. Here's to finding them." He raised his glass. Following suit she raised hers. "I'll drink to that." Their conversation fell as attention shifted to the movie.

She smiled, but it dropped when she realized throughout her dating history the most she'd ever been on was a few dates before the inevitable break up. In fact, the longest relationship she had was with the guy currently laughing at the stupid teen running through the woods about to hacked to death. It was their favorite movie and she could tell what scene was playing just by looking at him. She fought against the urge to apologize for ruining everything and focused on the movie.

On cue, the girl on the screen ran barefoot in the forest and tripped over a branch. It was incredibly cliché but comforting. They laughed. He smiled when he felt the heat of her legs in his lap. "Mercedes…why did we break up?" He began tracing invisible shapes on her calves. He loved how soft and smooth her skin always felt. He missed how her body felt against his.

She moved her legs away from his lap, away from his touch, and sat on the furthest end of the couch. "Mike…we're not supposed to talk about that…_ever_."

He slowly turned her around and placed her legs back in his lap…where they belonged. "Who created that rule? That's a bullshit rule." He knew he was overstepping, but constantly walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around the elephant in the room made him angry. He knew she would shut down, that his persistence could possibly ruin their friendship, but he was willing to risk it for something greater. The liquid courage he got from downing a bottle of champagne didn't hurt either.

She sighed, chugging the last of the second bottle. She should have known this would come up sooner or later. They were just reminiscing with the ghosts of relationships past. Of course they would broach the subject of their failed two-year stint as boyfriend and girlfriend. She fidgeted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "I liked you too much to continue dating you."

That wasn't good enough. "But we were together two years, then all of the sudden I get the 'It's not you it's me' speech. What the hell happened?"

She rolled her eyes. She really didn't want to discuss this. What was she supposed to tell him? Things were going too perfectly so she sabotaged the relationship? She ruins relationships and chooses losers because she doesn't think she deserves happiness? She would probably lose him, and having Mike walk out of her life would hurt a hundred times more than the breakup did. He pulled her into his lap and waited for her to continue. Resting her forehead on his shoulder, she spoke into his collarbone. "I-I didn't deserve you." She practically whispered it into his skin like some dirty little secret.

He pulled at her chin gently so she met his eyes. "I didn't ask what you _think_ you deserve. I asked why you pushed me away. I don't care what you _think_. I _know_ you deserve to be happy. I _know_ I'm my happiest when I'm around you." His eyes zeroed in on her lips when he asked. "I _know_ things wouldn't be the same without you. The only think I don't know is what you want."

She turned away from him, wiggling out of his hold but his hands clamped around her waist keeping her rooted to the spot. He asked again, impatience punctuating his words.

She was afraid to look at him, afraid her eyes would betray her and he could see the emotion she desperately tried to hide. His voice grew softer, more panicked. "Damn it sweetheart, tell me what you want." He began rubbing calming circles into her hips, which only drew her closer.

His familiarity, his proximity, made it impossible to hide her feelings. "You. I just want you." She stifled a moan, hips thrusting forward of their own accord.

He stilled her movements. Mike needed her to be fully coherent. He needed her complete attention.

"Are you sure Mercedes? I need you to be sure."

She nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt as she leaned into him. She stopped short of his lips waiting a beat, and then another before he met her and attached his lips to hers. The air was charged, their desire palpable as they stood and moved towards her bedroom, neither breaking contact. Piece by piece they left a trail of clothing from the couch to her room. "I missed this," he remarked before he kicked the door closed with his foot, eager to make up for lost time.


	9. Mercedes 101

I have zero motivation to finish my fics, so I figured I'd flood you all with Mikecedes one-shots and you wouldn't notice. (Is it working?)

* * *

Sam sat in the middle of the auditorium watching his ex-girlfriend coach the new glee members and prepare them for sectionals. He couldn't help the lopsided grin he produced whenever he was around her. He was so proud of her. She was going off and doing amazing things and he knew his decision to end things between them was the right one. He would only hold her back. Turning to his side he saw someone else sporting the same grin. He looked between them, Mike smiling like a fool and Mercedes rolling her eyes playfully at him before returning her attention to Marley.

He wondered when that happened, Mike and Mercedes. He hadn't noticed much lately, liking the slow-paced lifestyle remaining oblivious offered. For the first time in a long time his heart was safe. With Brittany he didn't need to try, he didn't need to care. Mercedes drove him crazy. He worried about everything with her because she made him want to be better. Still he didn't understand why a pang of jealously rippled through him when he looked at her and Mike. Mercedes was a hot commodity and he knew a long distance relationship wouldn't be good. He already was jealous of her relationship with the other male glee club members. That's why he tried to choose seats further up, so Artie and his roving hands could stay away from his girl, or stayed closer to Mercedes when Finn was around pouting like a puppy dog, asking for 'special Cedes hugs.' He knew that pervert was just trying to cop a feel. It's also why he almost lost his mind when Mercedes announced she would be moving to L.A. with Puck aka the only guy in the group who had romantic history with Mercedes. But her and Mike? That's a surprise. He never would have been worried about Mike.

He studied her face for a minute taken back by how beautiful she was. Her features had matured since he'd seen her last and she had this glow. She was happy and that's all he ever wanted for her. _Mike_ made her happy. Standing up he made his way over to Mike, ready to let him know their secret was out.

"Hey man."

Mike turned slowly to greet him. He was a little distracted by Mercedes shimmying with Unique on the stage. "Oh. Hey Sam."

Patting his friend on the back he began. "So uh, if you're planning to keep your relationship secret maybe you should stop drooling over her."

Mike secretly ran his thumb across his lip and rolled his eyes when he realized Sam was joking. "I'm not drooling and I don't know who you're talking about."

"Yeah, Okay. If you're going to be in a secret relationship with her, try to be a little more discreet. Trust me, I know."

Mike shook his head. Sam had it all wrong. "We're not in a secret relationship, we're just taking things slow." He saw the frown on Sam's face and realized the topic of his ex-girlfriend might make for awkward conversation. "Oh shit man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird. I mean, is it okay to talk about her with you?"

Sam shrugged and told another lie in a long list of lies to himself. "We're friends, me and Mercedes are friends, it's no big deal."

Mike sighed and looked at Sam again before running his hands through his hair. "It's just that she's so…_amazing_. She's stubborn but she listens. She acts tough but she's really sensitive. I just enjoy spending time with her." Mike probably didn't realize it but Sam did…the boy was gushing. For some reason it made Sam uneasy.

"Well she's really private so getting a rection from her in public is big."

"Yeah she is sometimes, but that's already changing. We've got plans tonight." Putting his hands in his pockets and pulling out tickets he showed them to Sam proudly.

Two tickets to a talent showcase in Columbus. _Damn_. Mercedes was going to love them. Pretending to be happy for the duo he decided to give Mike some advice. Sometimes Mercedes could be enigmatic and no one knew her like he did so he decided to help his friend.

He handed the tickets back, smiling at the beaming boy. "That's pretty good. I know she'll like that. Just remember to tell her the show starts half an hour earlier than it does…she's always late."

Mike nodded. "I know Sam."

But Sam continued. "And maybe you should make sure you're in a non-smoking section. She hates the smell of smoke."

"I already got it handled."

"Oh, and don't forget to pre-load your car with Adele, Mariah and Whitney. She can't drive long distances without listening to them. And-"

"Sam," Mike cut him off. "I know her."

"Look. I don't mean to be annoying okay? I just don't want her to get hurt, especially if you're not serious about her."

Mike looked at him again, slightly irritated. "I really _really_ like her Sam and I wouldn't hurt her. If I wasn't serious about her I wouldn't be having dinner with her parents tonight…as her boyfriend. I care about her too much to play games with her. She's in good hands, trust me."

And he did. Sam knew Mike was a good guy, but it didn't make seeing them together easier. She stood on stage clapping and congratulating everyone for a productive day. Taking it as his cue, Mike stood to meet her.

"Hey Mike," Sam called out to his friend causing him to turn his attention towards the blonde. "Aren't you worried about the distance?" Chicago and L.A. were pretty far away. He knew if he couldn't deal with it while he lived in Ohio, Mike would have the same issue.

Mike shrugged and turned back to the stage Mercedes was about to hop off of. He never took his eyes off Mercedes. "Not when I know I'll be coming back to her." He stood up and made his way over to her. "I'll catch you later."

He walked over to Mercedes and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle. She used to giggle that way for him. Standing on her toes to peck his cheek Sam cringed when he saw her wrap her arms around Mike's neck. She headed towards the door and yelped when Mike playfully slapped her ass, laughing and chasing her out the doors. She would have never let him do something like that in public.

He got up and made his way to his new girlfriend who was waving a flashlight in his face. "Oh Sam there you are. I was afraid you'd become invisible." He smiled tightly, remembering he had to be patient with her.

"No. I was just watching from the audience."

"Well come on let's go. Lord Tubbington's Weight Watchers class ends in five minutes and he hates it when we're late picking him up. Last time he almost used his knife to cut you in your sleep."

Grabbing Brittany's hand he couldn't help but glance back over to Mike and Mercedes. He sighed. Maybe he didn't know Mercedes Jones as well as he thought he did.


	10. Do You Remember Pt 2

_If you want to read part 1, it's chapter 5_

* * *

Mercedes tapped anxious fingers on the kitchen island as she waited for her dinner to heat. Today's dinner was some weird casserole, same as she had been eating for 14 days. Not that it mattered. Nothing really mattered now. You see 14 days ago she and Mike were planning to buy a house, 14 days ago their lives were set, 14 days ago they were involved in a bank robbery and 14 days ago the robbers took Mike as leverage against the cops.

Family and friends were glued at her side at all times, afraid she might do something, afraid she couldn't handle being without him. So for 14 days she smiled a fake smile, took their many condolences and shoved their casseroles in the fridge. The microwave beeped and she pulled her dinner out, swirling it around with a fork for good measure. It didn't matter what it tasted like as long as she ate. Her baby wasn't going to suffer because of her selfishness. In fact, the child was the only thing that pulled her from the brink. When she watched Mike get pulled away by the masked men her body went numb. She didn't care about anything anymore. But she had to keep moving, keep living. She had to take care of herself because she wanted to make sure her child, _Mike's child,_ came into this world healthy and happy.

She looked at the time and realized she should probably go to bed. She hated sleeping without him, so much so that she delayed it as long as possible. Nowadays she went to bed at 2. Sighing, she headed towards the dryer and pulled out one of his old ratty shirts. She held it close and nuzzled her face into its warmth before putting it on. Without hesitation she slipped it on and held it tighter, wrapping her arms around it. Every night she would put one of his shirts in the dryer and wear it. It seemed foolish and stupid but it was the only way she could sleep without him. She needed the warmth it provided, the memories it produced that flooded her thoughts. If she lay absolutely still and held the fabric particularly close, she could actually smell him. If she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, it felt like he was hugging her.

Hope kept her alive, kept her sane. When everyone else around her worried she would crumble, she would close her eyes tightly and see Mike smiling at her, grabbing her hand and rubbing her wedding band. She'd see him lifting their son over his shoulders and surprising them with picnics in their yard. It got her through the sleepless nights and what if scenarios trying to take purchase in her mind.

She tossed and turned again trying to find a place and gripped his shirt tighter. Mike was an essential piece of her and without him she didn't feel whole. She was waiting for her life to continue and it couldn't until Mike was home, safe and sound—no other outcome would do. So she ignored the people telling her to be realistic and prepare for the possibility that he wasn't coming back. Those people were wrong—they didn't know _shit_ about Mike. She knew what they failed to understand—he would move heaven and earth to be with her.

Pulling the covers over her body, she curled in closer to his side. Every night she closed her eyes and all she could see was him. She'd see his eyes, big and comforting as they were last, and she'd give in to the promise he made. The covenant he began on the day in the bank that they would be okay. That they could get through anything. He looked her in the eyes and promised no harm would come to them. He promised and Mike was never one to break his promise. She tried to stay positive, tried to focus on him coming back, but every day without him chipped away at her resolve. This was far from okay. She needed him, their baby needed him and in the blink of an eye some greedy assholes took him away.

Finally succumbing to fatigue she fell into a fitful sleep only to be jolted awake by her phone ringing. All previous thoughts of rest were gone and her heart was pounding as she reasoned why someone would call her phone in the middle of the night.

She grabbed her phone, noting that the call was coming from the sheriff's department.

"Mercedes Jones?"

She could barely remember her name let alone how to breathe. The magnitude of the moment made every action twice as difficult. She didn't know how but she managed to respond. "Yes?"

"Miss Jones, they found him."

That wasn't good enough. He had to be safe, had to come back to her. "Is he…" Her voice trailed off. She didn't know how to ask the question.

Luckily the man on the other end knew what she was asking. "He's alive and he's asking for you. He's refusing medical attention until he hears from you, says he has an important question to ask you."

Her eyes welled. Mike was finally coming home, she could finally breathe. "I'm on my way. Can I talk to him?" She knew it wasn't over until she heard his voice, until she saw for herself he was okay.

She heard rustling on the other line until his voice cut through the phone, clear and beautiful as ever.

"Mercedes?"

For the first time in 14 days, she was able to breathe properly. And like that she knew. She knew this person made every aspect of her life better. She knew that he was coded into her soul, programmed to love her, and she in turn only knew how to love him.

She could hear the emotion in his voice, she felt the flutters in her stomach when he said her name. It was like he was the only one who ever knew how to say it right. He was the only one to ever elicit that response.

"Mike?" She tried to sound composed but the adrenaline she just realized she'd been running off of for 14 days was finally released. That combined with the pregnancy hormones were making her voice shaky. She said his name again, still not sure that this was really happening.

"I'm here. I'm here Nova. I'm here and I'm not going to leave you again."

Tears pooled in her eyes at the nickname. He first called her Nova when they were teens and they were in their tree house looking out into the night sky through their telescope. He told her she was the brightest star in his galaxy and asked if she'd be his girlfriend. In a lot of ways she still felt like that 14-year-old girl with a massive crush on her best friend.

Grabbing her coat and ignoring the fact that she was still wearing her slippers she rushed out of the house with her mind focused on getting to him.

Mercedes got to the hospital in a hurry and practically ran to his room. He sat up when he saw her, flawless as she'd always been, and smiled. Relief washed over her when she finally laid eyes on him. "Mike." She ran over to him running her fingers gently over the small cuts on his face. He scooted over and gestured for her to join him in the bed. They held each other tightly and fell asleep, finally remedying 14 sleepless nights.

Mike smiled as he looked down on her sleeping. She looked so peaceful. He laid back down gently, his grin widening as the sun rose and peeked through the small hospital window, the light reflecting the glowing stone from her ring finger.

He couldn't wait for her to wake up and see it.


	11. Mike 101

Tina laughed and tried to wiggle her toes despite the toe separators there, her third attempt to paint them finally worked.

"They look great T," Mercedes complimented and they did. The fire engine red polish was offset by black crackle which made them perfectly Tina.

Her grin widened and she tried to hide it behind taking a sip of water. "A lot better than that overgrown toddler hooker look you used to wear."

"Don't go there Mercedes." Tina pointed at her friend recalling her many fashion disasters. "I might remember that ugly Technicolor zebra hoodie you loved so much."

Mercedes cringed at the memory "Touche."

Grabbing a slice of pizza Mercedes laughed with her friend. She missed this. Being home brought back an unexpected wave of nostalgia and that meant catching up with friends. She went to church and sang as a special guest during the service, she had lunch with Finn yesterday, she even called her old friend Kurt Hummel for the first time in a long time. Which is why when Tina suggested a sleepover, she jumped at the chance—eagerly bringing her red onesie out of retirement. The pair used to be inseparable, but other priorities made their friendship dwindle in recent years. Still Mercedes regarded Tina as a little sister. Now that she were dating Mike, she wanted to be the one to tell Tina before she heard it from anyone else.

Her voice softened and turned serious. "T, what's been going on with you?"

Tina rolled her eyes, biting into her second slice of cheese pizza. "Let me guess. Artie asked you to talk to me?"

Mercedes nodded. "He's worried."

Sighing Tina started from the top leaving nothing out. Mercedes identified with Tina's new assertiveness. That she wasn't going to be silenced. That the girl planned to right wrongs, especially during her senior year.

Like a proud mother, Mercedes beamed when Tina recounted the way she voiced her opinions to Finn. Of course Artie was concerned. In his opinion she was being selfish and hurting the group. She loved her friend but one of her biggest pet peeves about him was his fear of rocking the boat. She remember fondly arguing with him about it during the West Side Story auditions, but he had been stubborn, resolute. It as if he was determined to be overlooked, determined to blend in and stick to the status quo. Mercedes laughed. In her opinion it was about time Tina refused to be silent. "Good. Don't let anyone make you feel bad for sticking up for yourself. You're nobody's prop Tina Cohen Chang."

Tina chuckled half-heartedly. She sounded so defeated and it made Mercedes angry for her friend. "Yeah? Tell that to Mr. Schue or Finn or whoever the hell's running the club this week."

"Make them listen to you. From the sounds of things, their ideas aren't always the best anyway. We know Mr. Schue's are horrible."

They both laughed, their minds going back to the endless song choices that made no sense and giving solos with people who had no business singing those songs.

"It's ridiculous now Mercedes. It feels like he's trying to replace everyone that left and is failing miserably. Everything's a mess."

Mercedes nodded. She thought the same thing when she came to visit a few months ago. What the hell was going on with that club? With her friends? It was like a bad soap opera. Tina was molesting Blaine while he serenated Sam with a song about a bad breakup? She loved Blaine but she personally thought he ruined a great Phil Collins song for nothing. Wasn't he still pining over Kurt? Did they ever rehearse for competitions anymore? What ever happened to being inspirational? Wasn't that the whole point of glee club?

Speaking of exes, Mercedes knew she had the perfect opening to tell her friend. "T, I have something to tell you…It's about me and Mike."

"I know all about it Mercedes."

Mercedes' eyes widened a little, failing to wipe the surprise off her face. "You do? How?"

Tina shook her head. She loved her friend but when it came to boys, Mercedes was always a little clueless. "Yeah, you should tell him to be more subtle. The way he was looking at you was a dead indication. Besides I've seen it before."

"What?" Mercedes brow wrinkled in confusion. She really was clueless.

Tina fanned her still wet nails a little and hopped off the chair to sit beside Mercedes. "Okay confession time. Mike was into you for a while. When we were in Asian camp, before we hooked up, he would talk about you for hours."

Mercedes quirked her brow at this. Not really believing her friend. "Really?"

"Yeah, but he was afraid to make a move. Said he figured you wanted Puck for real considering how close you two were after Beth was born." Mercedes shook her head. Mike couldn't have been more wrong. But this new information was…intriguing to say the least.

"Huh" was all Mercedes could say. Letting the silence fall around her, she asked Tina the question that had been churning in her mind for quite some time. "What do you think? Of him and me?"

"Not gonna lie, it stung a little when I first realized he liked you again." She shrugged. "He is a big part of my life and I'll always care about him, but he isn't what I need." She remembered feeling them starting to drift apart after he said he was proud of her for not ruining their chances at Nationals by complaining about Schue's blatant favoritism of Rachel, but she never forgave him for it. She felt like he was just like Artie, trying to silence her, making her justified anger seem childish. Truth be told after that day she resented him a little. Their relationship had been doomed since. She could see that side of Mike changing day by day and couldn't help but think Mercedes had something to do with it. "I'll tell you one thing. I'm glad to be rid of _Footloose_."

Mercedes chuckled warmly remembering their Skype movie dates where he quoted every line of the movie. "I kind of like that T. He so passionate about them, He just lights up. It's…adorable." She giggled and then hid her face in her hands, slightly embarrassed. She could feel her cheeks heating up.

Tina blinked, clearly confused by her reaction. She always hated those movies, and Mike's insistence that they watch them only made her hate them more. "Okay…what about his pong obsession?" She knew that was one of Mercedes' biggest gripes about Puck. He was always playing video games.

"I almost missed a final cause I was up all night playing. I love that game now." She flicked her wrist a little. "If I get carpal tunnel it's all his fault."

Tina smiled at her friend, genuinely happy to see how happy Mike made her. "I think you two are perfect for each other."

Mercedes beamed back at her. "Thanks T." She leaned forward hugging her friend. "I think you're right."


	12. The Boss's Daughter Parts I and II

Mike adjusted his tie before knocking on his boss's door. The young businessman was already making a name for himself at the company. Apparently he had been catching the attention of the CEO with his business savvy decisions, but his latest venture brought him to his boss's door today.

It all started when his boss called an impromptu meeting asking that his whole staff be present. The company was losing its footing as a premiere advertising agency and his boss needed some ideas to jumpstart business and maintain the company's premier status. Everyone advised that the company be cautious, that they strengthen the relationship they have with older companies and focus on consumer trends. But Mike thought that was a bad idea. He had advised his boss to sever his ties with a long-established restaurant chain. Everyone balked at this, saying the young market researcher was too inexperienced to weigh in but Keith recognized something in the man and decided to follow his advice. As a result the decision saved the company 15 million when it was discovered the popular chain had numerous of e-coli cases reported just two weeks after the decision.

Since that day, Mike was seen as a wunderkind and was now Keith's Jones adviser on everything relating to the company. Mike was Keith Jones' shadow, silent but ever-present. The tall 25-year-old was always nearby, silently assessing risks of potential business ventures. His clients and staff knew to impress Keith you had to impress Mike.

"Mr Jones?" Mike stood in his boss's doorway with a pile of papers in hand.

Mike watched as Keith spoke on the phone, a hand to his forehead to stave off a headache. Keith Jones was a hard working family man. He put in long hours and made sacrifices to mold the company into what it is today. Always focused on education, he fought building a business while attending graduate school, which is why he created scholarship funds and tuition reimbursements for his employees. As a result his marriage suffered, late nights at the office nearly causing his divorce, but he and his wife of 30 years Donna were able to ride out the rough patch. Their marriage was now Teflon strong but his relationship with his youngest child, his baby girl, was not faring so well. And undoubtedly she was the cause of his impending migraine.

Ready to give his boss some privacy, Mike went to head back to his office only to be flagged down when Mr. Jones motioned that he take a seat. When he slammed the phone down and let out a frustrated grunt, Mike flinched. Keith was known for his composure, never revealing his hand. From his posture Mike knew immediately the problem could not have been work related.

Breaking through the silence Mike spoke. "Mr. Jones, I can come back if it's not a good time."

He sighed. Normally Keith never would talk about personal matters at work, but he trusted Mike, took him under his wing. "No it's fine." Offering his employee a bottle of water, he drummed his fingers on his desk. "My daughter is trying to raise my pressure. She's so bright and gifted and all she wants to do is become a singer. That's not the life I want for her. I want her to have stability, financial stability. She can't do that if she's struggling paycheck to paycheck waiting for her big break. She's so naïve too, she still believes that Disney bullshit that if you wish hard enough and try your dreams will come true. Sometimes they should just stay dreams. Singing is not a future! I can't support her doing that. Now she's telling me she wants to drop out of school a year before she graduates? No child of mine will be a college dropout."

Mike watched as his bossed slammed his hand on the desk. This conversation took him back to a time not so long ago when he had the same argument with his father about dancing. He was beyond excited to get accepted into a prestigious dance school but his father dismissed it as if he were accepted into clown college. Headstrong and fueled by anger towards his father he went to the dance school anyway. Fate had a funny way of punishing him for his disobedience. Two months into his first semester and he injured his knee effectively cutting his dancing career short. He lost his scholarship and switched colleges. He spent the remainder of his college years completely jaded and focused on a more practical future. It was irrational but he blamed his parents, his father in particular for the injury. He hasn't spoken to them since.

Rubbing his knee, he listened to his boss, shocked that the older man asked for his opinion on something that wasn't business related. "You just want to protect your daughter, it's completely understandable sir. The world is cruel, they'll toss her around if she doesn't toughen up. She's lucky you're looking out for her best interests. I wished I would have listened to my parents."

Mr. Jones smiled, looking lovingly at a picture taken of his little girl at a carnival. Her face was painted with a butterfly on the side and her mouth was bright blue from the cotton candy in her sticky little hand. She was so excited that day, dragging him from ride to ride. She tugged at his shirt and he took a picture of 6-year-old Mercedes beaming at him, her missing two front teeth on full display. He still saw her that way; always saw her that way.

"She's usually guarded, controlled and other times she just jumps in head first, no questions asked. She trusts the wrong people, wears her heart on her sleeve."

Keith looked up at Mike suddenly realizing the man was in the room. It was near impossible to get the stubborn girl to listen to him. Maybe she would hear his message if someone else was saying it, someone closer to her age, someone seemingly impartial. "Hey Michael, I need you to do me a favor…"

* * *

Mike fiddled with his phone in the expensive restaurant. La Croix was very exclusive and looking at the menu made him feel out of place. Hell, setting foot in the establishment made him want to turn around and grab a burger.

He knew it was Mercedes Jones, he could tell by the way she commanded the room, the way she schmoozed with the owner and his staff. She was definitely her father's daughter. But he saw something else in her too, something that made her father's words echo in his ear. She seemed to shy away from other's attention, preferring to talk to people one on one instead of in large groups. She smiled slightly and looked at the ground when complimented. He cleared his throat and grabbed his glass of water, trying to relieve his suddenly dry throat. He wanted to protect her and seeing her like this made her less of an obligation. He wanted to help. Watching her smile turn into a frown made him realize he was in for a long night.

When the maître-d walked her to the table her smile dropped and the warm feeling she had about tonight evaporated. She saw the tall man drinking a glass of water and knew it was one of her father's employees. Shit. She should have known it was a set up. Her father had been doing this for years: paying off roommates to steer her away from the only music class she took, Encouraging friends to help her focus on taking more business courses. She was never free to live her own life and she hated it. She couldn't trust that the people around her were really there for her or her father.

Now he ratchets it up to people on his payroll. All she wanted was a night alone with her father. They were supposed to have a heart to heart about her future. She should have known he was lying when he said she had his full support. She should have known he wouldn't give up control that easy. Sighing she plunked down glaring at the man in front of her. "You're not my father." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. She tried to remember that her father was the one she was really mad at and she shouldn't shoot the messenger. But as usual his father sent someone else to do his dirty work and Mercedes couldn't yell at him like she wanted to. She'd have to settle for yelling at his lackey instead.

Great. This was going to be interesting. "Mercedes? My name's Mike Chang. I work for your father. He couldn't make it tonight and sends his apologies."

She snorted. "Sure. The last thing my father is, is sorry. Look I'm going to go. I'm sorry he wasted your time." She smiled politely gathering her things to leave.

"Wait Mercedes," He grabbed her wrist lightly and immediately recoiled when he saw the look in her face. Raising his hands in surrender he apologized before adding, "You came all the way here. At the very least you could have a free meal at La Croix courtesy of your father."

"I'll pass. I've been eating here since I was a kid. And trust me, there's no such thing as free. When you're dealing with my father, everything has a price, including his family. Be careful."

"Maybe you can keep me company then?" He took the menu sitting in the center and slid it closer to her. Knowing she was about to cave he smiled at her and her features softened. His smile disarmed her. Grumbling, she grabbed the most expensive things on the menu, ordering two of everything. At least she could get a couple of day's dinner out of this.

They were quiet for a while, her texting someone while he looked around nervously. "So your father told me you want to be a singer?"

She put her phone down and rolled her eyes. Who was this kid? He sure wasn't subtle. "Yeah. Isn't that why you're here? To tell me why following my dreams is a bad idea? How I'm being impractical?" She smiled as the waiter placed her meal in front of her.

He shook his head, thanking the waiter for pouring him more wine. "I think you're smart enough to know about the dangers, about seeing cautionary tale that didn't have a solid background. This world is full of people who would love to use you. Your dad just wants to protect you."

"Look I know this world has horrible people in it, but that doesn't mean there aren't good people in it too. And my dad doesn't want to protect me, he wants to control me."

Wisely veering off the topic of Mr. Jones he leaned in closer. "I'm not saying you shouldn't try it, I'm just saying you need something to fall back on, something that will give you an edge so you don't get taken advantage of."

Looking in his eyes she saw genuine concern, but she had to remember who he really was here for. She liked him. A part of her wanted to warn him about her father, but he seemed the type that needed to learn hard lessons on his own.

"It's so easy to tear someone else down, to tear yourself down, but I'm interested in building people up. I know I'm not a genius or a visionary. I'm can't paint pictures or write moving words. I'm not business savvy or innovative. All I can do is sing. But when I sing I feel like I'm finally where I'm supposed to be, that I'm doing what I meant to do." Her smile was blinding as her face lit up. It made Mike involuntarily smile. There was something about her passion, about her drive that made him gravitate towards her. "Haven't you ever had something you cared about?" She looked up at him inquisitively, hoping he could understand why she couldn't give up.

He rubbed his neck his mind going back to how he felt about being a dancer. "I used to dance. I wanted to make a career out of it, even went to school for it."

She leaned in, wanting to hear more. "Well what happened?"

"Fell and tore my knee. Had to give up dancing." He shrugged like it didn't matter and hoped she couldn't see how much it hurt. "But I wouldn't be where I am if I didn't change my plans. That's all your father wants you to do, have a back up plan."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed comfortingly. "I'm sorry that happened to you Mike. I bet you were a great dancer." Her phone buzzed and she smiled down at the message, releasing his hand. "I'm sorry to cut this short but I can have some studio time today if I can get down there in 20 minutes. It was nice to meet you Mike. You've given me a lot to think about."

She stood up to leave when he called out to her. "Hey Mercedes, do you mind if I join you?"

* * *

Jessie closed his eyes and smiled. He finally had her where he wanted her. "Hey Jessie," his father's voice made him turn around. "Did you talk to her?" Jessie St. James smiled and took the shot of scotch his father offered him. "Yeah dad. And she's two seconds away from signing."

His father smirked, patting his son on the back. "Good. Your girl's voice is gonna make me a billionaire."

_TBC…._

* * *

**Part 2**

Mercedes escorted Mike to the studio with butterflies in her stomach. She loved this. She was in her element in the studio. She looked over at her morose companion and wondered if he was passionate about his job. If he was passionate about _anything_. He seemed nice but to be honest he seemed a little closed off, _guarded_. She shook it off and reminded herself to mind her business.

"You didn't have to come along, but I'm glad you did. Thanks." She looked up at him and smiled in a way that melted his heart a little.

"No problem," came his steely reply. He wasn't one for warm greetings or polite conversation. She didn't mind. His taciturn nature helped her clear her mind which was rushing with a thousand thoughts a minute. She liked his quiet. Stepping out of her car she nodded appreciatively as he opened her door. He was such a gentleman. She noticed the slightly hesitant way his hand ghosted at the small of her back as if he were ready to protect her but only if she needed protection. When they walked into the studio Mike's face hardened and his posture stiffened. In short, he looked like he was going into battle. She wondered what made him tense, why her place of solitude and peace had him on guard. She shook the thoughts away. Why was she thinking about Mike anyway? Why did she put so much energy into figuring him out?

Her smile returned once the elevator opened. The hallway was lined with gold and platinum LPs, each acknowledging some milestone for the label and artist. Pictures and autographs of famous artists and groups were scattered between where the LPs hung on the wall and Mercedes couldn't help but fantasize about seeing her name on that wall. "One day," she whispered as she passed the many signatures. One day she would arrive. One day she would hear excited fans sing along with her at sold-out concerts. One day her father would stand up and proudly clap when her name was called for a Grammy. But for now she was more than content to pay her dues. Today she was happy creating her demo.

Mike relaxed a little at her declaration. His mind pooled with the millions of people who had similar dreams that never came into fruition. The likelihood that an artist would get signed was slim; the likelihood of that artist being successful was even smaller. Still he couldn't help but wonder if this petite girl would defy the odds. He had a prickling feeling that she could. Maybe she could give him something to believe in.

She went to greet and hug two men who were talking in the studio. They were laughing and discussing song choices when she waved Mike over. "Mike, I want you to meet two very important people. "  
She stepped in the middle of two tall and burly men who looked more like bodyguards than music producers. "This is Shawn and Kyle. They run this studio. Guys, this is Mike, he works with my father." He nodded and shook their hands robotically, earning a chuckle from Shawn. Kyle tried to nudge him discreetly, but it didn't work. Still Mike ignored it. "Nice to meet you."

Shawn smiled as he watched Mercedes slip on her headphones and step to the microphone. Without looking, he could tell that Mike's eyes were on her. "First time in a studio?"

"Yes," Mike answered.

Kyle gestured to an empty chair. "Well sit down cause you're in for a treat."

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, lost in the song. Music had been her therapy for years, especially through her teen years. She understood why her parents treated her cautiously; she gave them plenty to worry about. Not too long ago the pressure of trusting fake people and always getting hurt caused her to fall into a bout of depression. She lashed out at her parents and peers, skipped school and self-medicated to numb the pain of being used and taken advantage of. After several wasted sessions where Mercedes would sit unresponsive, her therapist suggested music therapy. She hated people telling her what to do, especially people who only cared about her because they were paid to. Pushing all of that aside, one day she had the courage to sing one note. And when she did she felt herself healing, felt herself getting stronger. Now she was singing the first song she wrote and the song always stirred past emotions. She hit the last note as flawless as the others, her head falling back in emotional exhaustion.

"Do you see that?" Kyle lifted his sleeve and shoved his goosebump-y arm in Mike's face. "It happens every time she sings." Mike smirked softly as he watched her belt out note after note to perfection. She really was amazing.

She didn't believe them when they told her it was perfect, opting to sing it again. After singing another round she stepped out of the room eager for Mike's reaction, not that it mattered anyway.

She walked up to him expectantly.

"So…What did you think?" She swayed on the balls of her feet.

He broke into a wide smile then. "I thought that was incredible Mercedes."

She jumped up and gave him a quick hug, more excited about the genuine smile on his face than the compliment. "Maybe you could get my dad to stop worrying so much." She knew it was a fool's request but she had to try.

His smile dropped and with eyes pleading for understanding he spoke again. "Listen Mercedes…"

He didn't get to finish his warning because Jessie walked behind his girlfriend pulling her by the waist closer to him and kissing her possessively. Mercedes pulled out of the kiss dazed. She was equal parts aroused and embarrassed. And annoyed. Jessie knew she didn't like PDA, in fact she thought it was tacky. He was used to being the center of attention, it was as if he would fall apart, cease to exist, if someone wasn't looking at him. She also saw how uncomfortable Mike was getting. The look of uneasiness on Mike's face concerned her more than it should have.

Putting her hands on his chest she stepped away from him slightly. "Mike this is my boyfriend Jessie."

The curly haired man stood behind Mercedes and wrapped his arms around her waist again. He then placed his chin on her shoulder, slightly swaying them both. Mike tried to hide a grimace watching Jessie smack his gum near her ear. That had to be annoying.

"Nice to meet you man." He held out his hand for Mike to shake.

"Right." Suddenly Mike felt the need to be quiet, watching Jessie, nuzzle in closer to Mercedes although she looked uncomfortable.

Mike knew he was making the situation unnecessarily awkward but he couldn't help it. He didn't trust this Jessie St James any farther than he could throw him. Mr. Jones asked for his help because he was good at spotting snakes. The way Jessie was slithering and hissing around Mercedes was a clear indication that this man was scalier than a cobra. Mike only hoped he could get her away from him before he bore his fangs.

He wanted to pull her to the side and tell her to be careful around this guy. He didn't think Jessie was looking out for her best interests. But he couldn't, wouldn't be the one to dim that spark in her eye on a gut feeling. He had to be sure, had to have concrete evidence which meant in order to protect her he would have to get closer to Mercedes Jones. Much closer.

Jessie looked at the stone-faced man and a weird feeling of dread washed over him. She had to sign the papers, this plan had to work. He hoped Mike didn't mess things up for him.


	13. Chapter 13

Mercedes sat in the waiting room rubbing her practically non-existent baby bump and impatiently tapping her foot on the cold linoleum floor. Where was he? Her appointment was in five minutes and Mike was nowhere to be found.

She told him he didn't even need to be there. That it was her second visit and nothing important was going to be happening. She lied. She needed him here. If anything he calmed her down. And as soon she found out she was pregnant and the euphoria wore off, the panic set in. What if she miscarried like last time? They were barely able to move forward from that. Another loss would be catastrophic. She was four months and still afraid to speak about her pregnancy. Understandably apprehensive, she was afraid to tell their families until she was well in her third trimester. Hell, if she had her way she wouldn't have told Mike until the baby was here. Because the last time they were in this situation and the doctor told them he couldn't hear the baby's heartbeat, she couldn't get Mike's heartbroken face out of her mind.

Shaking away those dangerous thoughts she opened her snack bag and grabbed a grape. This pregnancy was so different than the previous one. Before she had some slight morning sickness but mostly craved weird food. Now she was just sick. Practically everything she ate, she usually threw up. The only food the baby liked seemed to be mac and cheese. Now she settled for light snacks and fruit throughout the day, which seemed to be more to the baby's liking.

When the nurse called her over and told her the doctor was a little behind and would be a few minutes late, she was relieved she could bide her time and wait for Mike longer. It was her own fault if he didn't come. She told him last night after she knew he had an important meeting in the morning. A part of her wanted to hide it from him. A part of her was afraid to see his face if they couldn't hear this baby's heartbeat.

Mike looked at the traffic and beeped his horn in frustration for the third time. He knew it was pointless but he had to do something. He left some important investors sitting in his office with their jaws dropped at his rudeness but he didn't care. Right now his attention was focused on his fiancée and their baby. He was angry that she never told him about the appointment. He would have rescheduled the investors. Hadn't she known by now she was his number one priority? But his mind drifted to his wife and how fragile and broken she looked when she told him she was pregnant. She was so afraid something would happen that she wanted to keep it to herself. Mike admittedly wasn't the most perceptive guy, but he knew something was up and called her on it. Her teary eyed confession made him feel like an asshole.

Now he just needed to get to her. Show her that he would be there for her no matter what. Remind her that having a baby is a good thing. That he was nothing less than overjoyed at her having his child. That he was _honored_.

God showed him favor because a few miles away from the doctor's office, the traffic lightened up and he was able to park and rush into the building with seconds to spare. He made his way to the doctor's office, a little winded and sweaty after bounding the stairs two at a time to make it. When he got there he paused at the door and looked at her. There she was reading some magazine and rubbing her belly. Ten years later and she still took his breath away. He fought for years to get her to notice him and it was the greatest day of his life when she finally had. Now five years of coupledom later and his fiancée still made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. He kissed her cheek and laced their fingers together as he sat beside her. "Hey. I made it."

Her eyes lit up when she saw him. "Mike."

He smiled at her. "I'm here."

Brows furrowed in concern she asked, "What about your meeting? You worked so hard on that."

Leaning forward he cupped her face. "Some things are more important." He'd probably have to look for another job in the morning. But right now he needed to focus on his family.

She place her head on his shoulder feeling instant relief at his presence. She looked down, her voice taking on a more somber tone. "Mike…what if something happens to the baby?"

He sighed. Keeping his hands in hers he rubbed soothing circles into her palm. "Honey, I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But we can't let that take our happiness away. You know, it's okay to be excited. You're not betraying Daniel's memory if you're happy." Mercedes closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. She still felt a small pang in her heart at the mention of her stillborn child. But he was right and she knew it.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

She was happy for the subject change. "I think it's a boy." She looked down and rubbed her stomach fondly. Although people told her it was too early in her pregnancy to feel flutters, she felt them. It was more pronounced when Mike would speak to her belly at night. "What do you think?" She squeezed his hand, thankful for his reassurance.

"I think it's a girl." He looked at her in awe, but helped her up when the nurse ushered them into an exam room.

When it came time to hear the baby's heartbeat Mercedes couldn't help but feel hers speed up. Mike sensed her hesitation and was quickly at her side, holding her hand. Bending over he whispered in her ear. "This isn't like before, okay?"

She nodded and took a deep breath, squirming when they applied the blue goop to her belly. She looked up at him and held his gaze as the room became filled with the most perfect sound in the world—her baby's heartbeat. She saw the tears pool in Mike's eyes, him looking like he could finally take a breath. She was sure she looked the same. She looked over at the doctor a little concerned at how fast the heartbeats were.

Looking over at Mike who was blissfully unaware she asked, "is it supposed to be that fast."

The doctor wiped her belly and put her shirt down. Sighing he began to speak and Mercedes could help but clench her jaw anticipating the worst.

"Actually, it's not." He closed the chart and looked at the couple. "Mercedes, Mike."

The couple clung to each other, trying to prepare themselves for bad news. "According to your ultrasound, it appears you're having twins. Identical twins."

Mike looked down at the woman he loved and kissed her lips softly, not even bothering to stop the tears that fell. "Twins?" He stared at her belly holding a new reverence for it. Mike prided himself on being a cynic. He leaned towards logic and not faith. To him everything could be disproven in the absence of cold, hard facts. If someone would have told him Mercedes was able to get pregnant again he would have thought them crazy. Now they find out not only are they having one baby but two? Just this once, he believed in miracles.


End file.
